Well! Though Art Happy

Well! thou art happy, and I feel 
That I should thus be happy too; 
For still my heart regards thy weal 
Warmly, as it was wont to do.

Thy husband's blest — and 't will impart 
Some pangs to view his happier lot:
But let them pass — Oh! how my heart 
Would hate him, if he loved thee not! 

When late I saw thy favorite child,
I thought my jealous heart would break;
But when the unconscious infant smiled, 
I kiss'd it for its mother's sake.

I kiss'd it, — and repressed my sighs
Its father in its face to see; 
But then it had its mother's eyes, 
And they were all to love and me. 

Mary, adieu! I must away:
While thou art blest I'll not repine; 
But near thee I can never stay;
My heart would soon again be thine. 

I deem'd that time, I deem'd that pride 
Had quench'd at length my boyish flame:
Nor knew, till seated by thy side,
My heart in all, — save hope, — the same. 

Yet was I calm: I knew the time
My breast would thrill before thy look; 
But now to tremble were a crime — 
We met, — and not a nerve was shook. 

I saw thee gaze upon my face, 
Yet met with no confusion there: 
One only feeling could'st thou trace; 
The sullen calmness of despair. 

Away! away! my early dream 
Remembrance never must awake;
Oh! where is Lethe's fabled stream! 
My foolish heart be still, or break.