And she was left behind.
True was the maiden, and she kept
While weeks and months took wing,
His name deep treasured in her heart,
As 'twere a sacred thing.
And he--did he return again
Her long love to repay?
No! in good sooth, as Byron says,
He laughed to flee away.
G HILL, 1839.
TO MY VALENTINE.
1844.
Adieu! Adieu! may angels guard thee,
Hovering near thee night and day,
For all thy good deeds God reward thee,
The rest forgive and blot away.
May no gift nor grace be missing,
May He all on thee confer,
And add a heartfelt prayer and blessing
From the distant wanderer.
O'er the trackless, foaming ocean,
In weal or woe, ever shall be
Mingled in my heart's devotion
Many a prayer for thine and thee.
What tho' across thy memory never
Shall flit my once familiar name,
Hallowed by distance, thine for ever,
Memory shall conjure up again.
All thy follies ever hidden,
All thy virtues raised above,
Thy name, so long, so much forbidden,
Strangers shall learn from me to love.
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