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If that forın looked forth so lovely,
If the sweet face smiled
Once when day returned,
F. VON SCHILLER. (Anonymous Translation.)
Hen I quanto minus est cum reliquis versari quám tui meminisse !
AND thou art dead, as young and fair
Too soon returned to earth!
In carelessness or mirth,
I will not ask where thou liest low,
Nor gaze upon the spot;
So I behold them not;
Like common earth can rot;
Yet did I love thee to the last,
As fervently as thou,
And can'st not alter now.
Nor falsehood disavow:
The better days of life were ours;
The worst can be but mine;
Shall never more be thine.
Nor need I to repine
The flower in ripened bloom unmatched
Must fall the earliest prey ;
The leaves must drop away.
Than see it plucked to-day ;
I know not if I could have borne
To see thy beauties fade;
Had worn a deeper shade;
Extinguished, not decayed :
As once I wept if I could weep,
My tears might well be shed
One vigil o'er thy bed;
Uphold thy drooping head;
Yet how much less it were to gain,
Though thou hast left me free-
Than to remember thee!
Returns again to me,
Evelyn Hope. BEAUTIFUL Evelyn Hope is dead !
Sit and watch by her side an hour. That is her book-shelf, this her bed;
She plucked that piece of geranium-flower, Beginning to die, too, in the glass.
Little lias yet been changed, I think; The shutters are shut-no light may pass,
Save two long rays through the hinge's chink.
Sixteen years old when she died !
Perhaps she had scarcely heard my name It was not her time to love; beside,
Her life had many a hope and aim,
Duties enough and little cares;
And now was quiet, now astirTill God's hand beckoned unawares,
And the sweet white brow is all of her.
Is it too late, then, Evelyn Hope?
What ! your soul was pure and true; The good stars met in your horoscope,
Made you of spirit, fire, and dew; And just because I was thrice as old,
And our paths in the world diverged so wide, Each was naught to each, must I be told?
We were fellow-mortals-naught beside ?
No, indeed! for God above
Is great to grant, as mighty to make, And creates the love to reward the love;
I claim you still, for my own love's sake! Delayed, it may be, for more lives yet,
Through worlds I shall traverse, not a few; Much is to learn, and much to forget,
Ere the time be come for taking you.
But the time will come--at last it will
When, Evelyn Hope, what meant, I shall say, In the lower earth-in the years long still
That body and soul so pure and gay; Why your hair was amber I shall divine,
And your mouth of your own geranium's red And what you would do with me, in fine,
In the new life come in the old one's stead.
I have lived, I shall say, so much since then,
Given up myself so many times, Gained me the gains of various men,
Ransacked the ages, spoiled the climes;
Yet one thing-one-in my soul's full scope,
Either I missed or itself missed meAnd I want and find you, Evelyn Hope !
What is the issue ? let us see !
I loved you, Evelyn, all the while;
My heart seemed full as it could holdThere was place and to spare for the frank young smile,
And the red young mouth, and the hair's young gold So, hush! I will give you this leaf to keep;
See, I shut it inside the sweet, cold hand.
E banks, and braes, and streams around
The castle o' Montgomery,
Your waters never drumlie!
And there the langest tarry! For there I took the last fareweel
O’ my sweet Highland Mary.
How sweetly bloomed the gay green birk !
How rich the hawthorn blossom !
I clasped her to my bosom !
Flew o'er me and my dearie ;
Was my sweet Highland Mary.