Classic Poem

She 's gone, the idol of my heart, —
She 's gone, alas! for ever.
Could Heaven such tender lovers part,
Such links of fondness sever?
So strong we twined the chain of love,
We thought no force could break it;
Such flowers within its links we wove,
'T was sweet as bliss could make it.

It was a silken, flowery chain,
And soft as downy pinions;
So bright its links, night shows in vain
Heaven's glittering " starred dominions. "
And oh! I thought no power so strong,
This chain of love to sever;
But ah! her vows were but a song, —
She 's gone, alas! for ever.

There is an angel in her eye,
So modest, sweet, and charming;
And when her sudden glances fly,
The bosom's peace alarming,
Reason cannot withstand her power,
Its light by passion shaded:
So falls the blooming April flower,
'T is plucked, rejected, faded.

O save me from a woman's eye!
There is a fiend within it.
O, guard me from a woman's sigh,
For death is breathing in it.
She smiles, enchants us, then betrays;
Her charms are man's undoing,
And in her flowery paths there strays
The harbinger of ruin.

You cannot tell when woman loves,
For all she does is smiling;
And when those charming lips she moves,
'T is all for man's beguiling;
And though her face like heaven is fair,
Each dart of Cupid wielding,
Her heart is still like gossamer,
As fluttering and as yielding.

Each idle glance can make her sigh
A moment, and 't is over.
There 's nothing like a woman's eye,
So wild, so light a rover.
She loves the coxcomb when he smiles,
And poets when they praise her;
But gold alone has those dear wiles
That can to rapture raise her.

Then go, thou false unmeaning thing, —
Go, and begone for ever!
Shalt thou again my bosom wring,
And steal my tears? — No, never!