SECOND LOVE

by: Henry Timrod (1829-1867)

      OULD I reveal the secret joy
      Thy presence always with it brings,
      The memories so strangely waked
      Of long forgotten things,
       
      The love, the hope, the fear, the grief,
      Which with that voice come back to me, --
      Thou wouldst forgive the impassioned gaze
      So often turned on thee.
       
      It was, indeed, that early love,
      But foretaste of this second one, --
      The soft light of the morning star
      Before the morning sun.
       
      The same dark beauty in her eyes,
      The same blonde hair and placid brow,
      The same deep-meaning, quiet smile
      Thou bendest on me now.
       
      She might have been, she was no more
      Than what a prescient hope could make, --
      A dear presentiment of thee
      I loved but for thy sake.

"Second Love" is reprinted from The Poems of Henry Timrod. Ed. Paul H. Hayne. New York: E. J. Hale & Son, 1873.

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