The Fading of the Vow

Once didst thou call me heart’s own gentle flame, 

And twined our days as ivy round the oak; 

Now years have turned to ash what once was name, 

And I am but a burden, bent and broke. 

Where laughter dwelt between us, silence reigns, 

And every glance thou givest bears a weight 

Of weary scorn, like winter’s bitter chains 

That bind the weary traveler to his fate. 

I stand beside myself in wild amaze, 

That love so deep could shallow grow and flee; 

What fault of mine hath turned thy golden gaze 

To leaden eyes that look not upon me? 

Hath time so cruelly stolen all delight? 

Or did I, foolish, cling too long, too tight? 

Now cast I off as burden in the night, 

Yet still my soul doth call thee in its plight. 

O cruel reversal! Once my dearest dear, 

Now am I but an old and unwanted gear— 

A rusted lock upon a long-sealed door, 

A shadow lingering where love lived before. 

If burden I must be, then let me fade 

As autumn leaves in cold November’s shade; 

Yet grant me this, ere thou dost turn away: 

Recall the years when love in fullness lay.