But must we, must we part indeed?
Is all our dream of rapture over?
And does not Julia's bosom bleed
To leave so dear, so fond a lover?
Does _she_, too, mourn?--Perhaps she may;
Perhaps she mourns our bliss so fleeting;
But why is Julia's eye so gay,
If Julia's heart like mine is beating?
I oft have loved that sunny glow
Of gladness in her blue eye beaming--
But can the bosom bleed with woe
While joy is in the glances beaming?
No, no!--Yet, love, I will not chide;
Although your heart _were_ fond of roving,
Nor that, nor all the world beside
Could keep your faithful boy from loving.
You'll soon be distant from his eye,
And, with you, all that's worth possessing.
Oh! then it will be sweet to die,
When life has lost its only blessing!
TO .......
Sweet lady, look not thus again:
Those bright, deluding smiles recall
A maid remember'd now with pain,
Who was my love, my life, my all!
Oh! while this heart bewildered took
Sweet poison from her thrilling eye,
Thus would she smile and lisp and look,
And I would hear and gaze and sigh!
Yes, I did love her--wildly love--
She was her sex's best deceiver!
And oft she swore she'd never rove--
And I was destined to believe her!
Then, lady, do not wear the smile
Of one whose smile could thus betray;
Alas! I think the lovely wile
Again could steal my heart away.
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