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Poem by Caroline Lamb
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Would I had seen thee dead and cold, In thy lone grave asleep, Than live, thy falsehood to behold, And penitent to weep: For better, I thy grave could see, Than know that thou art false to me! Or rather, would that I had died, When happy on thy breast- My love had then been satisfied, And life's last moments blest, For they taste bliss without alloy, Who die in the sweet dream of joy! But no! I feel the fault was mine, To think affection's chain Could thy proud wayward heart confine, When honor's claim was vain: Who robs the shrine where virtue lies, Will not the stolen relic prize!
Caroline Lamb's other poems:
English Poetry. E-mail firstname.lastname@example.org