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Home  »  A Book of Women’s Verse  »  A Lament

J. C. Squire, ed. A Book of Women’s Verse. 1921.

By Amelia Opie (1769–1853)

A Lament

THERE was an eye whose partial glance

Could ne’er my numerous failings see;

There was an ear that heard untired

When others spoke in praise of me.

There was a heart time only taught

With warmer love for me to burn;

A heart whene’er from home I roved

Which fondly pined for my return.

There was a lip which always breathed

E’en short farewells in tones of sadness;

There was a voice whose eager sound

My welcome spoke with heartfelt gladness.

There was a mind whose vigorous power

On mine its own effulgence threw,

And called my humble talents forth,

While thence its dearest joys it drew.

There was a love which for my weal

With anxious fears would overflow;

Which wept, which pray’d for me, and sought

From future ills to guard—But now!—

That eye is closed, and deaf that ear,

That lip and voice are mute for ever;

And cold that heart of anxious love,

Which Death alone from mine could sever:

And lost to me that ardent mind,

Which loved my various tasks to see;

And oh! of all the praise I gain’d

His was the dearest far to me!

Now I unloved, uncheered, alone,

Life’s weary wilderness must tread,

Till He who heals the broken heart

In mercy bids me join the dead.