We had been school-mates,--she and I,--
How sad, those years have all rolled by.
I loved her with a school-boy's heart,
A love from which I'll never part.
Though vultures tore my heart in twain,
Still would it beat for her again.
With fancy's eyes I see again,
The old school-house within the glen.
I see the master, bell in hand,
The ranks in single file command.
I feel my heart within me bound,
I welcome so the gladsome sound.
But now I'm tired of ball and bat;
Beneath a large, old oak I sat,
And watched the girls intent at play
With hearts so light and spirits gay.
Oh, that life's morning could return!
For boyhood's days I'll ever yearn.
And as I sat beneath the tree,
I said a maiden watching me,
But when I looked with smile benign,
She quickly turned her eyes from mine,
A maiden blush o'er-spread her face;
She turned from me with natural grace.
The maid was very fair to see,
And shy and prim as maid could be;
My boyish heart began to beat,
I rose and begged she'd have my seat.
But high she held her shapely head,
"I care not for it, sir," she said.
Advances after that were vain,
She treated me with cold disdain.
And still I tried with strongest will,
But she remained persistent still.
Ah! Imogene, had I but known,
We'd then had little need to mourn.
But Cupid's bow had touched my heart,
I struggled from that love to part.
A boy no more, a man to be
From that bright hour she gazed at me.
The hopes of youth had long been o'er,
I vowed I'd live, and love no more.
And gradually the years passed by:
My life was wrecked, I wished to die.
My Mother, on her dying bed,
Implored an heiress I would wed.
My wife was very fair to see,
But not the one beloved by me.