Verse > Anthologies > Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. > An American Anthology, 1787–1900
Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908).  An American Anthology, 1787–1900.  1900.
333. Florence Vane
By Philip Pendleton Cooke
I LOVED thee long and dearly,
    Florence Vane;
My life’s bright dream and early
    Hath come again;
I renew in my fond vision        5
    My heart’s dear pain,
My hope, and thy derision,
    Florence Vane.
The ruin lone and hoary,
    The ruin old,        10
Where thou didst mark my story,
    At even told,—
That spot—the hues Elysian
    Of sky and plain—
I treasure in my vision,        15
    Florence Vane.
Thou wast lovelier than the roses
    In their prime;
Thy voice excelled the closes
    Of sweetest rhyme;        20
Thy heart was as a river
    Without a main.
Would I had loved thee never,
    Florence Vane!
But, fairest, coldest wonder!        25
    Thy glorious clay
Lieth the green sod under,—
    Alas the day!
And it boots not to remember
    Thy disdain,—        30
To quicken love’s pale ember,
    Florence Vane.
The lilies of the valley
    By young graves weep,
The pansies love to dally        35
    Where maidens sleep;
May their bloom, in beauty vying,
    Never wane
Where thine earthly part is lying,
    Florence Vane!        40


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