Reminiscence

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TO---


  Yes, Lady! yes—that voice of thine,
  That voice of thine, whose strange control
  Steals o'er this wondering heart of mine,
  As forth the touching accents roll;
  On which, beneath the noon-day grove,
  So late my rapt attention hung,
  While that sweet tale of father's love
  Came faltering from a daughter's tongue;
  Yes, Lady! yes—that voice of thine
  Recalls a voice I knew before,
  And well may stir this heart of mine
  With throbs it deemed to feel no more.

  And then thy sweetly-pensive smile,
  Whose sweetness seems to strive with pain,
  This, too, in her beloved erewhile,
  In thee betrays my heart again.
  Yet when to smile of thine I cling,
  I seem as to the dead untrue;
  And what a joy thy voice would bring,
  But that it brings a sorrow too!
  I look—I listen—loth to part;
  Yet wish that we had never met;
  And feel how sadly fares a heart,
  Twixt love that vibrates and regret.

© John Kenyon