I Was Not False To Thee
I WAS not false to thee, and yet
My cheek alone looked pale;
My weary eye was dim and wet,
As When From Dreams Awaking
AS when from dreams awaking
The dim forms float away
Whose visioned smiles were making
Our darkness bright as day;
SURELY I heard a voice-surely my name
Was breathed in tones familiar to my heart!
I listened-and the low wind stealing came,
ONCE more, my harp! once more, although I thought
Never to wake thy silent strings again,
A wandering dream thy gentle chords have wrought,
My Heart Is Like A Withered Nut!
MY heart is like a withered nut,
Rattling within its hollow shell;
You cannot ope my breast, and put
Any thing fresh with it to dwell.
HEAVY is my trembling heart, mine own love, my dearest,
Heavy as the hearts whose love is poured in vain;