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Yet ne'er that leaf shall fall and fade,
My life is like the print which feet
Have left on Tempe's desert strand
His track will vanish from the sand;
THE MERMAID'S CAVE.
BY MISS H. F. GOULD.
COME, mariner, down in the deep with me,
And hide thee under the wave;
In a cell of the mermaid's cave.
And she who is waiting with cheek so pale,
At the tempest and ocean's roar; And weeps when she hears the menacing gale, Or sighs to behold her mariner's sail,
Come whitening up to the shore;
She has not long to linger for thee,
Her sorrows will soon be o'er,
So sweet, she will wake no more.
I LEFT THEE WHERE I FOUND THEE, LOVE.
BY MRS. HARRIET MUZZY.
I LEFT thee where I found thee, love,
Throned gaily in those laughing eyes ;
For love is loveliest while he fies.
For flight may end both hopes and fears;
For love's resistless when in tears.
At distance I may view thee, love,
Unchecked by glances, smiles, or sighs;
So wrapped in friendship's deep disguise.
Thy presence hallowed every spot;
WHEN MORNING, LIKE A BLUSHING BRIDE.
BY F. HILL.
When morning, like a blushing bride,
Looks o'er the earth and sea, love,
Oh, then I'll think of thee, love.
And every mirrored orb that glides
Across the summer sea, love,
Shall wake a thought of thee, love.
Then fare thee well, and bear with thee
This smile--for not one tear, love,
So fondly treasured here, love.
For oh! these eyes with fond truth shine,
And this fond melting heart, love,
That still mine own thou art, love.
THERE'S BEAUTY IN THE DEEP.
BY J. G. C. BRAINARD.
There's beauty in the deep The wave is bluer than the sky; And, though the light shine bright on high, More softly do the sea-gems glow That sparkle in the depths below; The rainbow's tints are only made When on the waters they are laid, And sun and moon most sweetly shine Upon the ocean's level brine.
There's beauty in the deep.
There's music in the deep :-
There's music in the deep.
There's quiet in the deep :Above, let tides and tempests rave, And earth-born whirlwinds wake the wave;
Above, let care and fear contend,
There's quiet in the deep.
ANDRE'S REQUEST TO WASHINGTON.
BY NATHANIEL P. WILLIS.
It is not the fear of death
That damps my brow,
I ask thee now;
And a quiet heart-
Ere I depart.
I can give up my mother's look
My sister's kiss;
A death like this!
I burned to win-
I glory in.