Poems (Smith)/The Old Pear-Tree

by Martha A. Smith

THE OLD PEAR-TREE.

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Oft I've mused in girlhood,
 Beneath the old pear-tree,
Of blissful days in the future,
 When somebody's love I'd be.

My memory often lingers
 O'er the days when I were free,
Believing joy would last forever,
 And somebody's love I'd be.

Life then was sweet and happy,—
 Oft remembrance brings a sigh:
In youth I dwelt so fondly,—
 On somebody's love I'd' rely.

That dear one's love I cherish'd,
 Thought of under the tree,—
Fled years ago,—it perish'd,—
 That somebody's love for me.

Alas! I am near forgetting
 How quickly bright hours do flee.
I'm aged now, though trusting
 Yet somebody's love I'll be.

But I will e'er remember,
 There's bitter with the sweet:
With faith in the great Hereafter,—
 There my Saviour's love to meet.