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“I loved, -and, blind with passionate love, I
fell. Love brought me down to death, and death to
"I do not rage against his high decree, Nor for myself do ask that grace shall be ; But for my love on earth who mourns for me.
“Great Spirit! Let me see my love again And comfort him one hour, and I were fain To pay a thousand years of fire and pain."
Then said the pitying angel, “ Nay, repent That wild vow! Look, the dial-finger 's bent Down to the last hour of thy punishment !"
But still she wailed, “I pray thee, let me go ! I cannot rise to peace and leave him so. 0, let me soothe him in his bitter woe ! ”
The brazen gates ground sullenly ajar, And upward, joyous, like a rising star, She rose and vanished in the ether far.
0, wae 's me for the hour, Willie,
When we thegither met, -
That our first tryst was set !
Where we were wont to gae, – And wae's me for the destinie
That gart me luve thee sae !
I downa seek to blame ;
And dree a warld's shame!
And hailin' ower your chin :
For sorrow, and for sin ?
And sick wi' a' I see,
Or be as I should be.
The heart that still is thine,
Ye said was red langsyne.
A sair stoun' through my heart; 0, haud me up and let me kiss
Thy brow ere we twa pairt. Anither, and anither yet!
How fast my life-strings break! Fareweel! fareweel! through yon kirk-yard
Step lichtly for my sake! The lav'rock in the lift, Willie,
That lilts far ower our heid,
Abune the clay-cauld deid ;
Wi' dew-draps shimmerin' sheen,
As warld has seldom seen.
On land where'er ye be;
That ne'er luvit ane but thee!
That file my yellow hair,
But soon adown the dying sunset sailing,
She sobbed, “I found him by the summer sea | Reclined, his head upon a maiden's knee, -She curled his hair and kissed him. Woe is me!"
She wept, “Now let my punishment begin !
The angel answered, “Nay, sad soul, go higher !
DEATH AND THE YOUTH. “Not yet, the flowers are in my path,
The sun is in the sky ;
I cannot bear to die.
“Not yet, I never knew till now
How precious life could be ; My heart is full of love, O Death !
I cannot come with thee!”
A WOMAN'S LOVE. A SENTINEL angel, sitting high in glory, Heard this shrill wail ring out from Purgatory : “Have mercy, mighty angel, hear my story! !
But Love and Hope, enchanted twain,
Passed in their falsehood by ; Death came again, and then he said,
“I'm ready now to die !”
LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON.
INCONSTANCY OF WOMAN.
There are three things a wise man will not trust :
The wind, the sunshine of an April day,
And woman's plighted faith.
SOUTHEY. A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it. Hamlet, Act iv. Sc. 7.
SHAKESPEARE. Who trusts himself to woman or to waves
Should never hazard what he fears to lose. The heart !--- Yes, I wore it
Governor of Cyprus.
OLDMIXON. As sign and as token Of a love that once gave it, A vow that was spoken;
Away, away — you 're all the same, But a love, and a vow, and a heart,
A fluttering, smiling, jilting throng!
O, by my soul, I burn with shame,
T. MOORE. A love that took an early root,
And had an early doom. The Devil's Progress.
T. K. HERVEY.
THE DISAPPOINTED HEART.
The cold— the changed — perchance the dead FALSE HOPE.
-- anew, Hope tells a flattering tale,
The mourned, the loved, the lost - too many!Delusive, vain, and hollow,
yet how few ! Ah, let not Hope prevail,
Childe Harold, Cant. iv.
Do not drop in for an after-loss.
Ah, do not, when my heart hath scaped this sorrow, INCONSTANCY OF MAN.
Come in the rearward of a conquered woe; Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,
Give not a windy night a rainy morrow, Men were deceivers ever ;
To linger out a purposed overthrow. One foot in sea and one on shore ;
SHAKESPEARE. To one thing constant never. Much Ado about Nothing, about Nothing, Act ii. Sc. 3. I have not loved the world, nor the world me.
BYRON, There is no music in a voice
Childe Harold, Cant. iii.
At threescore winters' end I died,
A cheerless being, sole and sad; Shepherd's Holiday.
J. RUTTER. The nuptial knot I never tied,
And wish my father never had. The fraud of men was ever so
From the Greek.
COWPER'S Trans. Since summer first was leafy. Much Ado about Nothing, Act ii. Sc 3 SHAKESPEARE.
Alas! the breast that inly bleeds O heaven! were man Hath naught to dread from outward blow : But constant, he were perfect : that one error Who falls from all he knows of bliss Fills him with faults.
| Cares little into what abyss. Ttvo Gentlemen of Verona, Act v. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE. I The Giaour.
BEREAVEMENT AND DEATH.
| But a fair maiden, in her Father's mansion,
Clothed with celestial grace ;
Shall we behold her face.
And though, at times, impetuous with emotion
And anguish long suppressed, The air is full of farewells to the dying,
The swelling heart heaves moaning like the ocean, And mournings for the dead;
That cannot be at rest, —
We will be patient, and assuage the feeling
We may not wholly stay ;
The grief that must have way.
Assume this dark disguise.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW.
We see but dimly through the mists and vapors;
When the soft green buds are bursting out,
And up on the south-wind comes a shout
In the mild spring evening gray.
Sturdy of heart and stout of limb,
But gone unto that school
In his spring, – on this spring day.
In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion, Passes away,
All the pride of boy-life begun,
Who dares to question when One saith “Nay."
Murmur not, — only pray.
Another body in churchyard sod, Behold her grown more fair.
Another soul on the life in God.
His Christ was buried - and lives alway:
DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK, Thinking that our remembrance, though un
spoken, May reach her where she lives.
GRIEF FOR THE DEAD.
Not as a child shall we again behold her;
For when with raptures wild
She will not be a child :
O HEARTS that never cease to yearn !
O brimming tears that ne'er are dried ! The dead, though they depart, return
As though they had not died !
Dear, beauteous death, - the jewel of the just, THE OLD FAMILIAR FACES.
Shining nowhere but in the dark !
What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust,
He that hath found some fledged bird's nest may All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
At first sight, if the bird be flown ; I have been laughing, I have been carousing,
| But what fair dell or grove he sings in now, Drinking late, sitting late, with my bosom cro
That is to him unknown. nies ;
And yet, as angels in some brighter dreams All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
Call to the soul when man doth sleep,
So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted I loved a Love once, fairest among women :
themes, Closed are. her doors on me, I must not see her, —
And into glory peep. All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
If a star were confined into a tomb, I have a friend, a kinder friend has no man Her captive flames must needs burn there, Like an ingrate, I left my friend abruptly ; But when the hand that locked her up gives room, Left him, to muse on the old familiar faces.
She 'll shine through all the sphere.
Ghost-like I paced round the haunts of my child. O Father of eternal life, and all hood,
Created glories under thee ! Earth seemed a desert I was bound to traverse, Resume thy spirit from this world of thrall Seeking to find the old familiar faces.
Into true liberty.