Classic Poem

T HERE'S falsehood in those eyes of light,
In every glance, in every ray;
Too like those meteors of the night,
Which sparkle, lure us, and betray: —
Oh, turn those fatal eyes from me,
For mine hath ceased to weep for thee.

There's falsehood on thy lip, alas!
Severer far than its disdain;
Oh, that its broken vows could pass,
Lost in oblivion, back again!
That lip hath breathed no truth to me,
And mine shall cease to speak of thee.

There's falsehood in thy heart of guile, —
Couched in the centre, there it lies;
Thy ready tear, and dazzling smile,
Fling o'er the fiend a sweet disguise: —
Away, frail maid! thy heart is free,
And mine hath ceased to throb for thee!