Classic Poem

The heart that throbbed at Glory's voice
And followed in her train,
Although in sloth it slumbers long,
May wake to life again.
But ah! when once true love has bloomed,
As many a heart can prove,
The fragrance wasted ne'er returns —
'T is only once we love.

I tread the sunny paths of life,
'Mid beauty's proud array,
But the spell that lent a charm to all
Has mist-like passed away.
No more the thrill from mingled pulse
The eloquent low sigh,
Nor the unbidden tear of joy
That trembled in the eye.

Yet ofttimes in my early dreams,
From some enchanted isle,
Comes one with her soft, winning voice
And the old gladsome smile,
And hand in hand we wander on
Through violet-bordered glades,
Till with the night's starred legions bright
The joyous vision fades.

Ah! sadly pass the hours away
When that sweet light departs,
Which fair as dawn on Eden rose
With rapture on our hearts.
And many a blossom fair is culled
As through the world we rove;
But the fairest is the rarest flower.
'Tis only once we love.