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“I loved, -and, blind with passionate love, I

fell. Love brought me down to death, and death to

Hell;
For God is just, and death for sin is well.

"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, -
O, wae's me for the time, Willie,

That our first tryst was set !
0, wae's me for the loanin' green

Where we were wont to gae, – And wae's me for the destinie

That gart me luve thee sae !
0, dinna mind my words, Willie,

I downa seek to blame ;
But 0, it's hard to live, Willie,

And dree a warld's shame!
Het tears are hailin' ower your cheek,

And hailin' ower your chin :
Why weep ye sae for worthlessness,

For sorrow, and for sin ?
I'm weary o’this warld, Willie,

And sick wi' a' I see,
I canna live as I ha’e lived,

Or be as I should be.
But fauld unto your heart, Willie,

The heart that still is thine,
And kiss ance mair the white, white cheek

Ye said was red langsyne.
A stoun' gaes through my heid, Willie,

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,
Will sing the morn as merrilie

Abune the clay-cauld deid ;
And this green turf we're sittin' on,

Wi' dew-draps shimmerin' sheen,
Will hap the heart that luvit thee

As warld has seldom seen.
But 0, remember me, Willie,

On land where'er ye be;
And 0, think on the leal, leal heart,

That ne'er luvit ane but thee!
And O, think on the cauld, cauld mools

That file my yellow hair,
That kiss the cheek, and kiss the chin
Ye never sall kiss mair!

WILLIAM MOTHERWELL.

But soon adown the dying sunset sailing,
And like a wounded bird her pinions trailing,
She Auttered back, with broken-hearted wailing.

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 !
I have been fond and foolish. Let me in
To expiate my sorrow and my sin.”

The angel answered, “Nay, sad soul, go higher !
To be deceived in your true heart's desire
Was bitterer than a thousand years of fire !”

JOHN HAY.

DEATH AND THE YOUTH. “Not yet, the flowers are in my path,

The sun is in the sky ;
Not yet, my heart is full of hope,

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.

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Madoc.

Hearts,

INCONSTANCY OF WOMAN.
FRAGMENTS.

There are three things a wise man will not trust :

The wind, the sunshine of an April day,
FRAGILITY OF LOVE.

And woman's plighted faith.
There lives within the very flame of love

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!
Can be broken.

O, by my soul, I burn with shame,
A. A. PROCTER.
To think I've been your slave so long !

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.
Lest disappointment follow.
The Universal Songster.

MISS WROTHER.

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 ;

Sonnet XC.

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.
That is but one, and still the same ;
Inconstancy is but a name

At threescore winters' end I died,
To fright poor lovers from a better choice.

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.

BYRON.

SHAKESPEARE.

| Cares little into what abyss. Ttvo Gentlemen of Verona, Act v. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE. I The Giaour.

BYRON.

.

BEREAVEMENT AND DEATH.

RESIGNATION.

| But a fair maiden, in her Father's mansion,

Clothed with celestial grace ;
THERE is no flock, however watched and tended, And beautiful with all the soul's expansion
But one dead lamb is there !

Shall we behold her face.
There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended,
But has one vacant chair !

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, —
The heart of Rachel, for her children crying,
Will not be comforted !

We will be patient, and assuage the feeling

We may not wholly stay ;
Let us be patient! These severe afflictions | By silence sanctifying, not concealing,
Not from the ground arise,

The grief that must have way.
But oftentimes celestial benedictions

Assume this dark disguise.

HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW.

We see but dimly through the mists and vapors;

BURIED TO-DAY.
Amid these earthly damps
What scem to us but sad, funereal tapers BURIED to-day.
May be heaven's distant lamps.

When the soft green buds are bursting out,

And up on the south-wind comes a shout
There is no Death! What seems so is transition : 1 Of village boys and girls at play
This life of mortal breath

In the mild spring evening gray.
Is but a suburb of the life elysian,
Whose portal we call Death.

Taken away,

Sturdy of heart and stout of limb,
She is not dead, the child of our affection, - From eyes that drew half their light from

But gone unto that school
Where she no longer needs our poor protection, And put low, low underneath the clay,
And Christ himself doth rule.

In his spring, – on this spring day.

him,

In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion, Passes away,
By guardian angels led,

All the pride of boy-life begun,
Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution, All the hope of life yet to run ;
She lives whom we call dead.

Who dares to question when One saith “Nay."

Murmur not, — only pray.
Day after day we think what she is doing
In those bright realms of air ;

Enters to-day
Year after year, her tender steps pursuing,

Another body in churchyard sod, Behold her grown more fair.

Another soul on the life in God.

His Christ was buried - and lives alway:
Thus do we walk with her, and keep unbroken | Trust Hiin, and go your way.
The bond which nature gives,

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
In our embraces we again enfold her,

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 !

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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,
I HAVE had playmates, I have had companions, I Could man outlook that mark !
In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-
days;

He that hath found some fledged bird's nest may All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.

know,

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.

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