IV.
One day, after years had flown,
Something came to me,
’Twas a portrait of my own
Playmate, Natalie,—
Natalie,—but not my own,
Never mine to be!
V.
There she sat, so lovely grown,
Like a queen to see,—
There she sat—but not alone,—
With her—who is he?
So my boyish dream has flown,
Faithless Natalie!
VI.
In my heart there is a place
Still for Natalie!
For the pretty, siren face,
For the sweetly, winning ways,
That were dear to me,
In those happy far-off days,
When her heart was free.