LAY OF THE CONSTANT ONE.
BY MRS. COROLLA H. CRISWELL.
Why do I doubt thy truth, dear one,
When thou art all to me?
Why do I doubt thy love, and deem
Thy fond heart false to be?
Why do I think thou lovest her,
Although thy thrilling eyes
Do ever shine on me, dear one,
As stars shine from the skies?
I watch thy roving glances, love,
And when on her they rest,
I feel a pang of jealousy
Shoot through my throbbing breast;
And then, I coldly turn away,
And force a careless smile,
As if my lonely heart was not
In anguish all the while.
Could I believe that thou wert true,
What bliss would then be mine!
I never loved but thee, dear one,
Will never be but thine.
Though many may have sought my heart,
Their vows were nought to me;
For years, long, weary years, mine own,
I have been true to thee!
And still my faith I'll constant keep,
Though false thou mayest prove,
My heart will never lose for thee
Its life-absorbing love;
And shouldst thou take her for thy bride,
Though shalt not hear one sigh;
As melts "the snow-flake in the sea,"
So silently I'll die.