Thy conscious heart still beats as true to me
As in the happy eves long past. Ah! once,
In night’s still hour, when I went forth to weep
Beneath our favorite tree, whose giant arms
Seemed stretched out to protect the lonely girl,
I marked a figure stealing thence away,
And my poor heart beat quick; for oh! I saw,
Despite the closely-muffled cloak, ’twas thou
Then, then I knew that thou in secrecy
Had’st sought that spot, like me, to muse and weep