And so, methought, 'twill shortly be
With every mark on earth from me:
A wave of dark Oblivion's sea
Will sweep across the place,
Where I have trod the sandy shore
Of Time, and been to be no more,
Of me-my day-the name I bore,
To leave nor track nor trace.
And yet, with Him who counts the sands,
And holds the waters in his hands,
I know a lasting record stands,
Inscribed against my name,
Of all this mortal part has wrought;
Of all this thinking soul has thought;
And from these fleeting moments caught
For glory or for shame.
'Twas not the robe of state Which the high and the haughty wear, That my busy hand, as the lamp burned late, Was hastening to prepare.
It had no clasp of gold,
No diamond dazzling blaze,
For the festive board; nor the graceful fold
To float in the dance's maze.
'Twas not to wrap the breast
With gladness, light and warm;
For the bride's attire-the joyous guest,
Nor to clothe the sufferer's form.
'Twas not the garb of woe,
We wear o'er an aching heart,
When our eyes with bitter tears o'erflow,
And our dearest ones depart.
'Twas that we all must bear
To the cold, the lonely bed!
'Twas the spotless uniform they wear
In the chambers of the dead!
I saw the fair young maid
In the snowy vesture drest;
So pure, she looked as one arrayed
For the mansions of the blest.
A smile had left its trace
On her lip at the parting breath,
And the beauty in that lovely face
Was fixed with the seal of death!
LOVE-it is the the gift of heaven;
Like the rose, how sweet its bloom;
And where'er is felt its presence,
There it dissipates each gloom.
And the heart that loveth truly,
In its first affection, pure,
Shall, as long as life continues,
Find its happiness endure.
Pleasures round us brightly hover,
Joys, like flowers, sweetly bloom;
But how oft the scenes we cherish
Flit away into the tomb!
But, though all things else may wither,
Though death stamp them with decay,
Still, there's kindly left unto us
That which shall not fade away.
Love it is, when all else fails us,
Gently soothes each troubled breast; E'en in sorrow's darksome hour
Yielding calm and peaceful rest.
May this angel ever cheer us
In our journey day by day;
And when death's dark moments near us, Gently bear our souls away.
LINES TO AN ABSENT LOVER.
I THINK of thee at the close of day,
When fading is the sun's last ray,
And falling fast the evening dew,
There's nought around I miss but
O then I love to think of thee,
When the breeze sways the trysting tree;
There, in the old well-loved retreat,
Where lovers oft-times sought to meet.
"Twas there on many a summer's eve,
Wreaths of wild flowers we did weave;
"Tis sad to think we meet no more,
Beneath that dear old sycamore.
Our parting do you e'er regret ?
But, perchance, a fairer one you've met
Who more than takes the place of me,
But can she be so true to thee P
And sometimes yet of a twilight bright,
I steal away from out of sight,
To the little seat in yonder grove,
Where last you whispered vows of love.
You told me that you'd love none but me,
However fair or bright she be,
Though far from me you'd love the same,
You would adore no other name..
We parted then in deepest sorrow,
Hoping for a brighter morrow,
Have you kept your vows as I've kept mine?
Or have you forgotten, "Auld lang syne."
Go, go, and for ever,-thou hast broken the spell,
Which once bound us so fondly, and now farewell;
A change has passed o'er thee, a bitter change,
Making the present, as sad, as strange.
There was nothing to bind us except the tie,
Which a stranger may claim from sympathy;
But O, thou wert dear to every heart,
As if in its being thine own had part.
Thou wert ever noble, and kind and true,
With many a good trait hidden from view,
Which affection brought from its secret cell,
And in our hearts they are treasured well.
O, what shall erase them-can memory bring
Thy image before us and ever fling
A shade o'er the past, which can make us forget
How dear thou once wert-how deep our regret?
Must we ever glance back on the past and say
Behold, our heart's idol has proved but clay!
Must we, too, change, because time has given
Another proof that the chain must be riven,
Which binds us to earth with such powerful sway,
As would make us forget we are passing away?
No, never! thy image shall ever be
With the loved and lost in memory.
Go, go, and forget us, we may not be
Worth a passing thought again to thee,
But that God in his mercy guard thee well,
Is the truest strain in this last farewell.
I HAVE loved thee, dearly loved thee-
But I must forget thee now;
My heart has long been obstinate;
'Twas hard to make it bow.
At length, it wearied, yields to fate's
Most hard and stern decree,
And I'm no longer happy, since
They've bid me part with thee.
The world will seem a wilderness;
And nought can make me blest,
Save the thoughts of a re-union,
Where the weary are at rest.
Each scene that we have visited,
Each book that we have read,
Will make our hearts bleed, we shall wish
That we were with the dead.
'Tis not that thou are not noble,
Else I'd not loved thee thus;
But thou art poor-and poverty
Has ever been a curse!
And so they have forbidden me
To say one kind farewell
To him who fondly loves me;
Who my bitter grief can tell?
I cannot tear thine image from
My bursting, breaking heart!
I cannot, cannot give thee up,
Though knowing we must part;
O that gold was not an idol
To which men's souls are given;
Or that thou hadst the treasure--then
Our hearts would not be riven!
I thought my heart would yield, but find
I cannot think of thee,
Without that pure devotedness,
That thou hast loved to see;
I can never cease to love thee,
But ever, ever pray
That we may meet in heaven above,
Where tears are wiped away.
SHALL I tell him as a brother,
That I love him passing well?
I, now betrothed to another,
Will it answer-shall I tell?
Fade, O fade, ye burning blushes!
Traitor heart, O cease to swell!
Hush the maddening thought which rushes,
Lest the shameful truth I tell!
Pitying angels, guard the secret!
Heaven, O help me to forget;
His sad gaze, how can I meet it?
He dreams not I love him yet.
I must wreath in gems and roses
A brow that throbs with dark despair,
Dance and smile, while nought discloses
To the passing world my care;
I must school my heart's deep anguish,
To calmly meet a husband's frown;
I can bear through life to languish,
Hope and love for ever flown;
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