Faded Love Poems
Poetry Of Love Lost
As they sang together, the whole scene fled,
The room's rich hangings, the sweet home air,
Stately Maud, with her proud blonde head,
And I seemed to see in her place instead
A wealth of blue-black hair,
And a face, ah! your face - yours, Lisette;
A face it were wiser I should forget.
Changed? Yes, I will confess it - I have changed.
I do not love you in the old fond way.
I am your friend still - time has not estranged
One kindly feeling of that vanished day.
On the white throat of the useless passion
That scorched my soul with its burning breath,
I clutched my fingers in murderous fashion,
And gathered them close in a grip of death;
For why should I fan, or feed with fuel,
A love that showed me but blank despair?
So my hold was firm, and my grasp was cruel --
I meant to strangle it then and there!
To Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin.
We are not happy, sweet! our state
Is strange and full of doubt and fear;
More need of words that ills abate; --
Reserve or censure come not near
Our sacred friendship, lest there be
No solace left for thee and me.
Song. (Rarely, rarely, comest thou...)
Rarely, rarely, comest thou,
Spirit of Delight!
Wherefore hast thou left me now
Many a day and night?
Many a weary night and day
'Tis since thou art fled away.
To___ . (When passion's trance is overpast...)
When passion's trance is overpast,
If tenderness and truth could last,
Or live, whilst all wild feelings keep
Some mortal slumber, dark and deep,
I should not weep, I should not weep!
Lines: We Meet Not As We Parted
That moment is gone for ever,
Like lightning that flashed and died --
Like a snowflake upon the river --
Like a sunbeam upon the tide,
Which the dark shadows hide.
Take back the sigh thy lips of art
In passion's moment breathed to me;
Yet, no -- it must not, will not part,
'Tis now the life-breath of my heart,
And has become too pure for thee!
Take back the sigh thy lips of art
In passion's moment breathed to me;
Yet, no -- it must not, will not part,
'Tis now the life-breath of my heart,
And has become too pure for thee!
With all my soul, then, let us part,
Since both are anxious to be free;
And I will send you home your heart,
If you will send back mine to me.
With all my soul, then, let us part,
Since both are anxious to be free;
And I will send you home your heart,
If you will send back mine to me.
Had we but known, since first we met,
Some few short hours of bliss,
We might, in numbering them, forget
The deep, deep pain of this, dear love! the deep, deep pain of this.
Had we but known, since first we met,
Some few short hours of bliss,
We might, in numbering them, forget
The deep, deep pain of this, dear love! the deep, deep pain of this.
Go, then -- 'tis vain to hover
Thus around a hope that's dead --
At length my dream is over,
'Twas sweet--'twas false--'tis fled!
Farewell! since nought it moves thee,
Such truth as mine to see, --
Some one who far less loves thee,
Perhaps more bless'd will be.
Go, then -- 'tis vain to hover
Thus around a hope that's dead --
At length my dream is over,
'Twas sweet--'twas false--'tis fled!
Farewell! since nought it moves thee,
Such truth as mine to see, --
Some one who far less loves thee,
Perhaps more bless'd will be.
Away, away, you're all the same,
A fluttering, smiling, jilting throng!
Oh! by my soul, I burn with shame,
To think I've been your slave so long!
Away, away, you're all the same,
A fluttering, smiling, jilting throng!
Oh! by my soul, I burn with shame,
To think I've been your slave so long!
There comes a time, a dreary time,
To him whose heart hath flown
O'er all the fields of youth's sweet prime
And made each flower its own.
'Tis when his soul must first renounce
Those dreams so bright, so fond;
Oh! then's the time to die at once,
For Life has nought beyond.
There comes a time, a dreary time,
To him whose heart hath flown
O'er all the fields of youth's sweet prime
And made each flower its own.
'Tis when his soul must first renounce
Those dreams so bright, so fond;
Oh! then's the time to die at once,
For Life has nought beyond.
When I loved you, I can't but allow
I had many an exquisite minute:
But the scorn that I feel for you now
Hath even more luxury in it!
When I loved you, I can't but allow
I had many an exquisite minute:
But the scorn that I feel for you now
Hath even more luxury in it!
That snowy neck I ne'er should miss,
However oft I've raved about it;
And though your heart can beat with bliss,
I think my soul could live without it.
That snowy neck I ne'er should miss,
However oft I've raved about it;
And though your heart can beat with bliss,
I think my soul could live without it.
Once fondly lov'd, and still remember'd dear;
Sweet early object of my youthful vows!
Accept this mark of friendship, warm, sincere, --
Friendship! 't is all cold duty now allows.
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