By Oliver Goldsmith

© St. John, N.B.: John McMillan, 1834



Though long since departed, I remember the hour,
    For in anguish it often recurs to me now,
When I met you at eve in the rose-covered bower,
    And in fondness and friendship you plighted your vow;
When in warm glowing accents I heard you de­clare,


    That never, no never, from me would you part;
That in sorrow or rapture, hope, grief, or despair,
    I should ever be mistress and queen of your heart.

Nor can I forget when a quick starting tear,
    On my cheek stood awhile, and I doubt seemed to say;


That simple you called me and laughed at my fear,
    Then kissed it in transport gently away. [Page 133]
And you said, that my pathway for ever should be,
    As the moments of time in joy hastened on;
Full of flowrets that should blossom only for me,


    Till life, and its pleasures, and sweetness were gone.

Yet, I thought not a moment, ah! too foolish maid,
    When I trusted I should e’er be deceived;
Or that falsely and basely I could be betrayed,
    By him in whom I had fondly believed.


Like the twilight of evening that dies in an hour
    I thought not so soon would thy friendship de­cay;
Or the love that you pledged in the rose-covered bower,
    Would, like leaves in the autumn, fade so quickly away.
    [Page 134]