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Article TO MY WEE AULD WIFIE. Page 1 of 1 Article TO ISIDORE. Page 1 of 2 →
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
To My Wee Auld Wifie.
TO MY WEE AULD WIFIE .
My dear old dame ! the days are gone , When you and I were young ; When you my wishes smiled upon , And I your praises sung ; When , hand in hand , we walked among Green Saltram ' s sunny glades , Or wandered , from the worldly throng , In Warleigh ' s woody shades !
Those days ai - e gone , my dear old dame , — Those scenes no more we view ; Yet are our hopes our joys the same . Our love as warm and true ! And when thy years that yet may be Are numbered with the past , Life ' s latest thoughts will prove that we Are lovers to the last ! September , 1842 . J . LEE STEVENS
To Isidore.
TO ISIDORE .
SAY not farewell ! that word conveys A desolation to my heart , A feeling of despair ; Severing for e ' er those earthly ties , That union of our sympathies , 'Which once appear'd so fair . The world has chang'dbut I am yet
, What I have always been to thee , And surely will remain ; Oh ! my fond soul with rapture burns , Whenever to that spot it turns , Where heaves the azure main .
There , basking in thy smile of love , I found no pleasure save in thee , Thou idol of my soul ! Forgetting in th' excess of joy , That pleasure here without alloy , May not continuous roll . My joy has faded—and a change
Comes o ' er me when I view the past , The time for ever gone ; I " ¦ droop the wing , " I " seek the shade , " Where all my earthly hopes are laid , In crowds I am alone .
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
To My Wee Auld Wifie.
TO MY WEE AULD WIFIE .
My dear old dame ! the days are gone , When you and I were young ; When you my wishes smiled upon , And I your praises sung ; When , hand in hand , we walked among Green Saltram ' s sunny glades , Or wandered , from the worldly throng , In Warleigh ' s woody shades !
Those days ai - e gone , my dear old dame , — Those scenes no more we view ; Yet are our hopes our joys the same . Our love as warm and true ! And when thy years that yet may be Are numbered with the past , Life ' s latest thoughts will prove that we Are lovers to the last ! September , 1842 . J . LEE STEVENS
To Isidore.
TO ISIDORE .
SAY not farewell ! that word conveys A desolation to my heart , A feeling of despair ; Severing for e ' er those earthly ties , That union of our sympathies , 'Which once appear'd so fair . The world has chang'dbut I am yet
, What I have always been to thee , And surely will remain ; Oh ! my fond soul with rapture burns , Whenever to that spot it turns , Where heaves the azure main .
There , basking in thy smile of love , I found no pleasure save in thee , Thou idol of my soul ! Forgetting in th' excess of joy , That pleasure here without alloy , May not continuous roll . My joy has faded—and a change
Comes o ' er me when I view the past , The time for ever gone ; I " ¦ droop the wing , " I " seek the shade , " Where all my earthly hopes are laid , In crowds I am alone .