Was she untrue?—She oftentimes was glad
And happy as a wife;
But ONE remembrance oftentimes made sad
Her matrimonial life.—
Though its few years were hardly noted, when
Again her path was strown
With thorns—the roses swept away again,
And she again alone!
And then—alas! ah THEN!—her lover came:
"I come to claim you now—
My Darling, for I know you are the same,
And I have kept my vow
Through these long, long, long years, and now no more
Shall we asundered be!"
She staggered back and, sinking to the floor,
Cried in her agony:
"I have been false!" she moaned, "I am not true—
I am not worthy now,
Nor ever can I be a wife to YOU—
For I have broke my vow!"
And as she kneeled there, sobbing at his feet,
He calmly spoke—no sign
Betrayed his inward agony—"I count you meet
To be a wife of mine!"
And raised her up forgiven, though untrue;
As fond he gazed on her,
She sighed,—"SO HAPPY!" And she never knew
HE was a WIDOWER.
A BALLAD
WITH A SERIOUS CONCLUSION
Crowd about me, little children—
Come and cluster 'round my knee
While I tell a little story
That happened once with me.