That fated day, when I believed that all
The hopes that I had cherished in the past
Would be fulfilled, and I should fondly call
The being whom I loved my own at last:
Then fell the storm, and bursting on my head,
Still saved my body when my soul was dead.
IV.
I loved her dearly, and my heart was set
On winning her. My only aim in life
Was to secure her love, and so forget
The world beside—my world would be my wife.
I never loved another, her alone
I loved, and, loving, longed to call my own.
V.
The summer months were passed in tortured bliss.
My love had grown, but that it could not grow;
It all-enveloped me, and one sweet kiss
From her dear lips had made my bosom glow
With happiness; and many months of pain
Had been as nothing, that one kiss to gain.
And, when the many-tinted Autumn's reign
Succeeded Summer's more congenial sway,
I told her of the mingled joy and pain
That stirred my soul throughout each Summer's day.
And whispered, in emotion's softest tone,
The love that I had feared before to own.
VII.
She listened silently, then, sweetly shy,
She laid her gentle head upon my breast.
And, in the liquid depths of each blue eye,
I read the love her lips had not confessed;
And quickly, fondly, pressed her to my heart,
Vowing that none should keep us two apart.
VIII.