How little did I think to part
With my sweet bride, whose name was Truth!
But time passed on, and Truth grew gray,
And chided, though with gentlest art:
I loved her, though I went astray,
And almost broke her faithful heart.
And then I left her, and in tears—
These could not move my hardened breast!
I wandered, and for weary years
I sought for bliss, but found no rest.