ON AN OLD DELUDED SUITOR by GEORGE MOSES HORTON

See sad deluded love in years too late,
With tears desponding o'er the tomb of fate;
While dusky evening's veil excludes the light,
Which in the morning broke upon his sight.
He now regrets his vain, his fruitless plan,
And sadly wonders at the faults of man;
'Tis now from beauty's torch he wheels aside,
And strives to soar above affection's tide;
'Tis now that sorrow feeds the worm of pain
With tears which never can the loss regain;
'Tis now he drinks the wormwood and the gall,
And all the sweets of early pleasures pall;
When from his breast the hope of fortune flies,
The songs of transport languish into sighs.
Fond lovely rose that beamed as she blew,
Of all the charms of youth the most untrue;
She with delusive smiles prevail'd to move
This silly heart into the snares of love.
Then like a flower closed against the bee,
Folds her arms and turns her back on me;
When on my fancy's eye her smile she shed,
The torch by which deluded love was led,
Then like a lark from boyhood's maze I soared,
And thus in song her flattering smiles adored;
My heart was then by fondling love betrayed,
A thousand pleasures bloomed but soon to fade;
From joy to joy my heart exulting flew,
In quest of one though fair, yet far from true.

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