Phoebe Carey

Sept 4, 1824 - 1871



by Phoebe Carey

She loved me, but she left me.

Memories on memories! to my soul again
There come such dreams of vanished love and bliss,
That my wrung heart, though long inured to pain,
Sinks with the fulness of its wretchedness.
Thou dearer far than all the world beside!
Thou who didst listen to my love's first vow!
Once I had fondly hoped to call thee bride --
Is the dream over? comes the awakening now?
And is this hour of wretchedness and tears
The only guerdon for my wasted years?

And did I love thee; when by stealth we met
In the sweet evenings of that summer-time,
Whose pleasant memory lingers with me yet,
As the remembrance of a better clime
Might haunt a fallen angel. And oh! thou,
Thou who didst turn away and seek to bind
Thy heart from breaking, thou hast felt ere now
A heart like thine o'ermastereth the mind;
Affection's power is stronger than thy will;
Ah! thou didst love me and thou lovest me still.

My heart could never yet be taught to move
With the calm even pulses that it should
Turning away from those that it should love,
And loving whom it should not; it hath wooed
Beauty forbidden -- I may not forget --
And thou, oh! thou canst never cease to feel;
But time, which hath not changed affection, yet
Hath taught at least one lesson -- to conceal;
So none, but thou, who see my smiles shall know
The silent bleeding of the heart below.


The Poems Of Phoebe Carey
Copyright 187_?
New York: Hurst And Company