Poems (Procter)/Hearts

by Adelaide Anne Procter

HEARTS.

I.

TRINKET made like a Heart, dear,
 Of red gold, bright and fine
Was given to me for a keepsake,
 Given to me for mine.

And another heart, warm and tender,
 As true as a heart could be;
And every throb that stirred it
 Was always and all for me.

Sailing over the waters,
 Watching the far blue land,
I dropped my golden heart, dear,
 Dropped it out of my hand!

It lies in the cold, blue waters,
 Fathoms and fathoms deep,
The golden heart which I promised,
 Promised to prize and keep.

Gazing at Life's bright visions,
 So false, and fair, and new,
I forgot the other heart, dear,
 Forgot it and lost it too!

I might seek that heart forever,
 I might seek and seek in vain;—
And for one short, careless hour,
 I pay with a life of pain

II.

HE Heart?—Yes,I wore it
 As sign and as token
Of a love that once gave it,
 A vow that was spoken;
But a love, and a vow, and a heart
 Can be broken.

The Love?—Life and Death
 Are crushed into a day,
So what wonder that Love
 Should as soon pass away,—
What wonder I saw it
 Fade, fail, and decay?

The Vow?—why what was it?
 It snapped like a thread;
Who cares for the corpse
 When the spirit is fled?
Then I said, "Let the Dead rise
 And bury its dead,

"While the true, living future
 Grows pure, wise, and strong."
So I cast the gold heart
 I had worn for so long
In the Lake, and bound on it
 A Stone—and a Wrong!

III.

OOK, this little golden Heart
 Was a true-love shrine
For a tress of hair; I held them,
 Heart and tress, as mine,
Like the Love which gave the token:—
See, to-day the Heart is broken!

Broken is the golden heart,
 Lost the tress of hair;
Ah, the shrine is empty, vacant,
 Desolate and bare!
So the token should depart,
When Love dies within the heart.

Fast and deep the river floweth,
 Floweth to the west;
I will cast the golden trinket
 In its cold dark breast:—
Flow, O river, deep and fast,
Over all the buried past!