Lincoln Telegraph

POETRY,
The False One.
I knew him not-I sought him not-
He was my father's guest;
I gave him not one smile more kind
Than those I gave the rest;
He sat beside me at the board,
The choice was not my own,
But oh! I never heard a voice
With half so sweet a tone.
And at the dance again we met,
Again I was his choice,
Again I heard the gentle tone
Of that beguiling voice;
I sought him not-he led me forth
From all the fairest there,
And told me he had never seen
A face he thought so fair.
Oh ! wherefore did he tell me this?
His praises made me vain;
And when he left me how I longed
To hear that voice again;
I wondered how my old pursuits
Had lost their wonted charms,
And why the path was dull, unless
I leaned upon his arm.
Alas! I might have guessed the cause ;
For what could make me shun
My parent's cheerful dwelling place,
To wander all alone?
And what could make me braid my hair,
And study to improve
The form that he had deigned to praise;
What could it be-but love?
Oh ! little know I of the world,
And less of man's career ;
I thought each smile was kindly meant,
Each word of praise sincere
His sweet voice spake of endless love—
I listened and believed :
And little dreamed how oft before :
That sweet voice had deceived
He smiles upon another now,
And in the same sweet tone,
He breathes to her those winning words
I once thought all my own.
O! why is he so beautiful?
I cannot blame her choice,
Nor can I doubt she will be won
By that beguiling voice.