Lehigh University
The Vault at PfaffsAn Archive of Art and Literature by the Bohemians of Antebellum New York
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Text for Page 017

              [newspaper clipping]
	PASSION PAST.
		���
Were I a boy, with a boy�s heart-beat
At glimpse of her passing down the street,
Or a room where she had entered and gone,
Or a page her hand was written on�
  Would all be with me as it was before?
Oh no, never! no, no, never!
  Never any more.

Were I a man, with a man�s pulse-throb,
Breath hard and fierce, held down like a sob,
Dumb, yet hearing her lightest word�
Blind, until only her garments stirred�
  Would I pour my life like wine on her floor?
No, no, never! never, never!
  Never any more.

Gray and withered, wrinkled and marred,
I have gone through the fire and come out un-
	scarred,
With the image of manhood upon me yet,
No shame to remember, no wish to forget;
  But could she rekindle the pangs I bore?�
Oh no, never!  Thank God, never!
  Never anymore.

Old and withered, withered and gray�
And yet if her light step passed to-day,
I should see her face all faces among,
And say: �Heaven loves thee, whom I loved
	Long!
  Thou hast lost the key of my heart�s door,
Lost it ever, and forever�
  Aye, and for evermore.�
				MISS MULOCH.               
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