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106 SONGS FROM THE ST. LAWBENCE.
LOVE-A CONFESSION.
Theme my lyre has never waken'd In its brightest hour of song;
But its chords of late are shaken With an impulse new and strong.
Earthly love to me was ever Like a bright, unreal dream-;
Or a star that seem'd to quiver Far o'er life's cold, turgid stream.
It was something all ideal That my fancy sometimes wove—
Tinged with nothing true or real Was the thought of youthful love.
Could this gloomy world of sorrow. Hollow-hearted, drear, and cold,
Gleams of sacred sunshine borrow E'en from interchange of soul ?
Sympathy—methought it vanish'd,
If it ever lived on earth ! Love—I thought it long since banish'd
To its place of heavenly birth.
And my soul was upward tending With a wing unpoised below,
Through the mist its glance was sending Where the living waters flow; |
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