Away! a man hath worshipp'd thee-
Hath knelt thy love to gain;
A bard hath wak'd his harp to thee
In many a glowing strain;
Yet thou couldst coldly turn away
From lover's vows and poet's lay.

Oh! had thy bosom ever known
That spark of birth divine,
My heart had found an answering tone
In every pulse of thine;
And when I touch'd the ardent lyre,
Thou wouldst have felt a kindred fire.

But no! too hard that heart of thine
For passion's sun to melt;
No child of pride or avarice
Could feel as I have felt;
I would have given my life for thee,
And thou hadst not a smile for me.

Away! thy place is with the vain,
The world her votary claims;
Broken for aye is fancy's chain,
And served are our names;
Away! deceit is on thy brow;
I would not-could not-love thee now.