Page:Poems Osgood.djvu/144

Too wildly I worshipp'd thy mind-illumed beauty;
 Too fondly I cherish'd my dream of thy truth;
Forgetting, in thee, both my pride and my duty,
 I made thee the god of my passionate youth!

And dearly and deeply I rue that devotion,—
 Thou hast broken the heart that beat only for thee
Not even thy voice can now wake an emotion;
 I am calm as thyself while I bid thee "be free!"

 

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THE "FAIRER FLOWER."

"Oh! are they not most bright and fair!"
 The youthful lady cried;
And pointed to her blossoms rare
 With playful love and pride.

The soft moss-rose with veilèd bloom,
 Droops o'er the hands that tie it;