I marked her ruined hues,
Her custom-straitened views,
And asked, “Can there indwell
My Amabel?”
I looked upon her gown,
Once rose, now earthen brown;
The change was like the knell
Of Amabel.
Her step's mechanic ways
Had lost the life of May's;
Her laugh, once sweet in swell,
Spoilt Amabel.
I mused: “Who sings the strain
I sang ere warmth did wane?
Who thinks its numbers spell
His Amabel?” -
Knowing that, though Love cease,
Love's race shows undecrease;
All find in dorp or dell
An Amabel.
- I felt that I could creep
To some housetop, and weep,
That Time the tyrant fell
Ruled Amabel!
I said ( the while I sighed
That love like ours had died ),
“Fond things I'll no more tell
To Amabel,
“But leave her to her fate,
And fling across the gate,
‘ Till the Last Trump, farewell,
O Amabel!’”