And dream, while the chill sea-foam

In mockery dashes o'er thee,

Of the cheerful hearth, and the quiet home, And the kiss of her that bore thee.

III.

Watch in the deepest cell

Of the foeman's dungeon tower,
Till hope's most cherished spell
Has lost its cheering power;

And sing, while the galling chain
On every stiff limb freezes,

Of the huntsman hurrying o'er the plain,

Of the breath of the mountain breezes.

IV.

Talk of the minstrel's lute,

The warrior's high endeavour,

When the honied lips are mute,

And the strong arm crushed for ever:

Look back to the summer sun,

From the mist of dark December;

Then say to the broken-hearted one,

""Tis pleasant to remember!"

TELL HIM I LOVE HIM YET.

TELL him, I love him yet,

Ah, in that joyous time!

Tell him, I ne'er forget,

Though memory now be crime.

Tell him, when fades the light
Upon the earth and sea,

I dream of him by night-
He must not dream of me!

Green, green upon his brow

The laurel wreath shall be—

Although that laurel now

Must not be shared with me!

Tell him to smile again

In pleasure's dazzling throng,

To wear another's chain,

To praise another's song!

Before the loveliest there,

I'd have him bend the knee,

And breathe to her the prayer

He used to breathe to me!

Tell him, that day by day,

Life looks to me more dim

I falter when I pray-
Although I pray for him.

And bid him when I die,

Come to our fav'rite tree

I shall not hear him sigh

-Nor let him sigh for me!

I REMEMBER HOW MY CHILDHOOD FLEETED.

I remember, I remember,

How.my childhood fleeted by―

The mirth of its December,

And the warmth of its July ;

On my brow, love, on my brow, love,
There are no signs of care,

But my pleasure's are not now, love,
What childhood's pleasure's were:

Then the bowers, then the bowers,
Were as blithe as blithe could be,
And all their radiant flowers

Were coronals for me:

Gems to-night, love, gems to-night, love,
Are gleaming in my hair;

But they are not half so bright, love,

As childhood's roses were.

I was merry, I was merry,

When my little lovers came—

With a lily, or a cherry,

Or a new invented game :

Now I've you, love, now I've you, love,
To kneel before me there;

But you know you're not so true, love,
As childhood's lovers were.

CHARADES.