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'Twas partly Love and partly Fear,
And partly 'twas a bashful art,
That I might rather feel than see
The swelling of her heart.

I calmed her fears, and she was calm,
And told her love with virgin pride,
And so I won my Genevieve,
My bright and beauteous bride.

SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE.

SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE.

A PETITION TO TIME.
BOUCH
OUCH us gently, Time!

Let us glide adown the stream
Gently, as we sometimes glide
Through a quiet dream!
Humble voyagers are we,
Husband, wife, and children three;
(One is lost-an angel, fled
To the azure overhead!)

Touch us gently, Time!

We've not proud nor soaring wings; Our ambition, our content,

Lies in simple things.
Humble voyagers are we
O'er life's dim, unsounded sea,
Seeking only some calm clime;
Touch us gently, gentle Time!

THE POET'S SONG TO HIS WIFE.

OW many summers, love,
Have I been thine?
How many days, love,

Hast thou been mine?
Time, like the winged wind
When 't bends the flowers,
Hath left no mark behind,

To count the hours!

Some weight of thought, though loth, On thee he leaves;

Some lines of care round both

Perhaps he weaves;

Some fears; a soft regret

For joys scarce known;

Sweet looks we half forget;

All else is flown!

the long, sleepless watches of the night,

Looks at me from the wall, where round its head

The night lamp casts a halo of pale light. Here in this room she died, and soul more white

Never through martyrdom of fire was led
To its repose; nor can in books be read
The legend of a life more benedight.
There is a mountain in the distant west
That, sun-defying, in its deep ravines
Displays a cross of snow upon its side.
Such is the cross I wear upon my breast
These eighteen years, through all the chang-
ing scenes

And seasons, changeless since the day she died.

HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW.