jessewestend

...
The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow--
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
and light is thy fame:
I hear thy name spoken\
and share in its shame...
...
In secret we met--
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit decieve.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?
With silence and tears.
L.B.