When hearts, whose truth was proven, And I, who woke each morrow It should be mine to braid it While memory bids me weep thee, That mourns a man like thee. FITZ GREENE Halleck. THE MEMORY OF THE HEART. F stores of dry and learned lore we gain, We keep them in the memory of the brain; Names, things, and facts—whate'er we knowledge There is the common ledger for them all; Make slight impression, and are soon effaced. But we've a page, more glowing and more bright, But now thou art far from me, Robin Adair ; But now I never see Robin Adair ; Yet him I loved so well Still in my heart shall dwell Robin Adair ! Welcome on shore again, Robin Adair! Welcome once more again, Robin Adair ! I feel thy trembling hand; Tears in thy eyelids stand, To greet thy native land, Robin Adair. Long I ne'er saw thee, love, Robin Adair ; Still I prayed for thee, love, Robin Adair; When thou wert far at sea, Come to my heart again, Robin Adair; And if thou still art true, I will be constant too, And will wed none but you, Robin Adair! LADY CAROline Keppel, THE MAID'S REMONSTRANCE. EVER wedding, ever wooing, Read you not the wrong you're doing In my cheek's pale hue? Rivals banished, bosoms plighted Charms you call your dearest blessing, Soon you'll make them grow THOMAS CAMPBELL. NO TIME LIKE THE OLD TIME. 'HERE is no time like the old time, when you and I were young, When the buds of April blossomed, and the birds of springtime sung! The garden's brightest glories by summer suns are nursed, But, oh, the sweet, sweet violets, the flowers that opened first! There is no place like the old place where you and I were born! Where we lifted first our eyelids on the splendors of the morn, From the milk-white breast that warmed us, from the clinging arms that bore, Where the dear eyes glistened o'er us that will look on us no more! There is no friend like the old friend who has shared our morning days, No greeting like his welcome, no homage like his praise; Fame is the scentless sunflower, with gaudy crown of gold, But friendship is the breathing rose, with sweets in every fold. There is no love like the old love that we courted in our pride; Though our leaves are falling, falling, and we're fading side by side, There are blossoms all around us with the colors of our dawn, And I sighed to think that the traitor love A year passed on, and again I stood Oh, well I knew what had dimmed her eye While she listened to love's soft tale; And the stolen heart, like the gathered rose, Had charmed but for a day. EMMA C. EMBURY. AFTON WATER. LOW gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes; Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream, And we live in borrowed sunshine when the light of Thou stock-dove whose echo resounds through the glen, day is gone. There are no times like the old times-they shall never be forgot! There is no place like the old place-keep green the dear old spot! There are no friends like our old friends-may Heaven prolong their lives! There are no loves like our old loves-God bless our loving wives! THE MAIDEN SAT AT HER BUSY WHEEL. HE maiden sat at her busy wheel, Her heart was light and free, And ever in cheerful song broke forth Her bosom's harmless glee: Her song was in mockery of love, And oft I heard her say, "The gathered rose and the stolen heart Can charm but for a day." I looked on the maiden's rosy cheek, Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den, How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below, Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides, Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes; THE WAKEFUL HEART. 'READ lightly, love, when over my head, Dreamless I sleep in the quiet ground, Bright shone the moon, last eve, when you came Still dust for dust hath feeling The willow-roots whispered low the name Of him who weeps while kneeling. The lily-cup holds the falling tears, And I know through all these silent years Oh, softly sigh; for I hear the sound Whisper me, love, as in moments fled, "She's dead;" DENNAR Stewart. MINNIE ADAIR. I thought her so pretty and called her my own, As the rich sunlight played in and out of her curls, As her little white feet 'mid the violets shone, And her clear laughter rippled through rubies and pearls. Through June's golden mazes Of pansies and daisies We wandered and warbled our songs on the air; O, the birds, a whole tree full, Were never more gleeful Than I and my sweet little Minnie Adair ! They come now and tell me that you're to be wed, Shall June's golden mazes Of pansies and daisies, And the bare-footed playmate who thought you so fair Who wept at your sadness, And shared in your gladness Be lost in their splendor, O Minnie Adair? LYMAN GOODMAN, SMILE AND NEVER HEED ME. 'HOUGH, when other maids stand by, If our love indeed, be such, Even if, with maiden pride, Smile, and never heed me! THE LASS OF RICHMOND HILL. N Richmond Hill there lives a lass This lass so neat, with smiles so sweet, Ye zephyrs gay, that fan the air, And wanton through the grove, How happy will the shepherd be Who calls this nymph his own? O, may her choice be fixed on me! Mine's fixed on her alone. UNITED LIVES. JAMES UPTON. SAD are they who know not love, But, far from passion's tears and smiles, And sadder they whose longing lips But clear as amber, sweet as musk, THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH. OH! TELL ME NOT OF LOFTY FATE. H! tell me not of lofty fate, Of glory's deathless name; Has naught to do with fame. Vainly philosophy would soar- The heart soon learns a sweeter lore Man's sterner nature turns away To seek ambition's goal! Wealth's glittering gifts, and pleasure's ray, But woman knows one only dream- For on life's dark and sluggish stream SOMEBODY. EMMA C. EMBURY. OMEBODY'S courting somebody, Somewhere or other to night; Somebody's whispering to somebody, Somebody's listening to somebody, Under this clear moonlight. Near the bright river's flow, She sits with somebody. Sound sweet to somebody. Deep though the shadow be, No one sits up to wait, Talking with somebody. Tiptoe to parlor door; Susy and somebody. Two, sitting side by side, Float with the ebbing tide, "Thus, dearest, may we glide Through life," says somebody. Somewhere, somebody THOUGH LOST TO SIGHT TO MEMORY DEAR. WEETHEART, good bye! That flut'ring sail Though lost to sight, to memory dear. Sweetheart, good bye! one last embrace ! Thou, thou alone, shalt dwell forever; In fancy's mirror, ever near, Each smile, each tear, that form, that faceThough lost to sight, to memory dear. THOMAS MORE. EVENING SONG. OOK off, dear Love, across the sallow sands, Now in the sea's red vintage melts the sun, Come forth, sweet stars, and comfort heaven's heart; O night! divorce our sun and sky apart Never our lips, our hands. SIDNEY LANIER. A MAIDEN'S IDEAL OF A HUSBAND. ENTEEL in personage, Generous and free: Brave, not romantic; Honor maintaining, Engaging and new. But ever true. HENRY CAREY, લ NEW LOVELINESS. E stars that look at me to-night, How beautiful you seem! For I have found my spirit's light, The seraph of my dream. To see how calmly you behold EDWARD POLLOCK. SWEET AND LOW WEET and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon and blow, Blow him again to me ; While my little one, while my pretty one sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon: Rest, rest on mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon; Fath will come to his babe in the nest, Silver sails all out of the west, Under the silver moon; Sleep, my little one, sleep my pretty one, sleep. a લ ALFRED TENNYSON. TO A SISTER. ES, dear one, to the envied train To think of him that's far away? O, think not, think not of me there. And thou art sad, remember me. Remember me-but, loveliest, ne'er If haply some thy friends should praise; In scenes of festal week-day joy, For then it were not kind or meet, Thy thought thy pleasure should alloy, But on the sacred, solemn day, And, dearest, on thy bended knee, When thou for those thou lovs't dost pray, Sweet spirit, then remember me. EDWARD EVERETT. THE RING'S MOTTO. LOVER gave the wedding-ring Into a goldsmith's hand. "Grave me," he said, "a tender thought Within the golden band." The goldsmith graved The wedding-bells rang gladly out. I give to thee My hand, and heart, 'Twas she that lifted now his hand, (O love, that this should be!) Then on it placed the golden band, And whispered tenderly; "Till death us join, And I am thine! |