THOU HAST WOUNDED THE SPIRIT THAT LOVED THEE.
Thou hast wounded the spirit that loved thee,
And cherished thine image for years,
Thou has taught me, at last, to forget thee,
In secret, in silence and tears;
As the young bird, when left by its mother,
Its earliest pinions to try,
Round the nest will still lingering hover,
Ere its trembling wings can fly.
Thus we're taught in this cold world, to smother
Each feeling that once was so dear ;
Like that young bird, I'll seek to discover
A home of affection elsewhere;
Though this heart may still cling to the fondly,
And dream of sweet memories past,
Yet hope, like the rainbow of Summer,
Gives a promise of Lethe, at last.