The Poetry Corner

First Love.

By Nora Pembroke (Margaret Moran Dixon McDougall)

(A. S.) 1845. We met--he was a stranger, His foot was free to roam; I was a simple maiden, Who had never left my home. He was a noble scion Of the green Highland pine, To a strange soil transplanted, Far from his native clime And well his bearing pleased me, For I had never seen Keener eye, or smile more sunlit, Or more dignity of mien. His brow was fair and lofty, Bright was his clustering hair; I marvelled that to other eyes He seemed not half so fair His it was to plead with men, With "Thus my Lord hath said;" He stood God's messenger between The living and the dead When I heard how earnestly His pleading message ran, I said, "Here God has set his seal To mark a perfect man." The rapture of a moment Came suddenly to me; With softened glance he asked me, 'Could you learn to think of me?' The star of love shone o'er us, His arm was round me thrown And he fondly said he loved me And loved but me alone I was but a simple maiden Village born and village bred And when this crown of gladness Dropped down upon my head A simple maiden's feelings That moment sprang awake I wished myself rich, noble And lovely for his sake Ah, love akin to sorrow Ah, ecstasy so fleet! Why is parting made the surer When the meeting is so sweet? Quick as the flash of summer Came bliss to fade too soon My poor heart swelled, as ocean Swells for the lady moon. I saw him at the altar Upon a morning fair The matron and the maiden, And paranymph were there There were holy words, and wishes, And smiles when tears would start A fair bride stood beside him, And I--I stood apart. Then came the parting moment, After I loved him well; I stilled my heart's sore beating, And so I said farewell, And oh! may no remembrance Cause him a moment's pain, But yet, indeed, I loved him, And I'll never love again.