Poems (Smith)/The Old Pear-Tree
THE OLD PEAR-TREE.
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.