Ah! fair the blossoms Hope's tree bore!
I dreamed of Autumn's golden grain—
Oh! fatal blooms! ye brought a store
Of deep remorse, of life-long pain!
Oh! dream of youth, I see you now
With calmer eyes, and world-taught mind,
And know these care-lines on my brow
My waking hour has left behind.
All false the glow that round you shone,
Though fair as Fancy's dream-land light:—
With all your rainbow decking gone
I view your naked wreck to-night.
I look and bless the sudden blast
That tore my idol from its throne;
And bless the keen pain of the past—
If pain for error could atone.
False love! bereft of all your wiles
Dead dream whose sweetness all is o'er,
The memories of your tears or smiles
Can touch my wakened heart no more.
I lay you in your grave to-night
And seal the stone without a sigh,
Rejoicing that your gloom and blight
No more can cloud my brightening sky.
"ONLY."
Only relics, yet precious and pure
Are the dreams of the days of old,
Though they tell of wounds that no charm can cure,
And of bright hopes, dead and cold.
Only visions of forest ways,
Only thoughts of happier days,
Only the glow of Life's sunrise haze
When the morning sun was shining.
Only, it may be, a lock of hair,
Or a flower sere and dry;
Only a pictured face, how fair
In the light of the times gone by!
Only a sigh for what may not be,
Only a yearning wish to see
The light beyond the mystery
That for weary souls is shining.
Only thoughts of the gladsome time
When the world of youth was bright;
Only memories of joys sublime—
The gleams of youth's fairy light,
Only sweet flashes that come and go,
Only the thrall that sets heart aglow,
Only the spells we were wont to know
When Fancy's rays were shining.