ADIEU.

LET time and chance combine, combine,
Let time and chance combine;

The fairest love from heaven above,

That love of yours was mine,

My Dear

That love of yours was mine.

The past is fled and gone, and gone,
The past is fled and gone;

If naught but pain to me remain,

I'll fare in memory on,

My Dear

I'll fare in memory on.

The saddest tears must fall, must fall,
The saddest tears must fall;

In weal or woe, in this world below,

I love you ever and all,

My Dear

I love you ever and all.

A long road, full of pain, of pain,

A long road full of pain:

One soul, one heart, sworn ne'er to part-

We ne'er can meet again,

My Dear

We ne'er can meet again.

WHEN YOUR BEAUTY APPEARS.

Hard fate will not allow, allow,

Hard fate will not allow;

We blessed were as the angels are

Adieu forever now,

My Dear!

Adieu forever now!

THOMAS CARLYLE.

WHEN YOUR BEAUTY APPEARS.

WHEN your beauty appears,

In its graces and airs,

All bright as an angel new-dropt from the skies,
At distance I gaze, and am awed by my fears -

So strangely you dazzle my eyes!

But when without art

Your kind thoughts you impart,

When your love runs in blushes through every vein,

When it darts from your eyes, when it pants at your heart-
Then I know that you 're woman again.

In our sex," she replied:

And thus (might I gratify both) I would do

Still an angel appear to each lover beside,

But still be a woman for you."

THOMAS PARNELL.

TO THE UNSATISFIED.

WHY thus longing, thus forever sighing
For the far-off, unattained and dim,
While the beautiful, all round thee lying,
Offers up its low perpetual hymn?

Wouldst thou listen to its gentle teaching,

All thy restless yearnings it would still: Leaf and flower, and laden bee, are preaching, Thine own sphere, though humble, first to fill.

Poor indeed thou must be, if around thee

Thou no ray of light and joy canst throw; If no silken cord of love hath bound thee

To some little world, through weal and woe;

If no dear eyes thy fond love can brighten,
No fond voices answer to thine own;
If no brother's sorrow thou canst lighten
By daily sympathy and gentle tone.

Not by deeds that win the crowd's applauses,
Not by works that give thee world-renown,

Not by martyrdom, or vaunted crosses,

Canst thou win and wear the immortal crown.

TO THE UNSATISFIED.

Daily struggling, though unloved and lonely,
Every day a rich reward will give;
Thou wilt find by hearty striving only,
And truly loving, thou canst truly live.

Dost thou revel in the rosy morning,

When all nature hails the lord of light,
And his smile, the mountain-tops adorning,
Robes yon fragrant fields in radiance bright?

Other hands may grasp the field and forest,
Proud proprietors in pomp may shine;

But with fervent love if thou adorest,

Thou art wealthier- all the world is thine!

Yet if through earth's wide domains thou rovest,
Sighing that they are not thine alone,

Not those fair fields, but thyself thou lovest,
And their beauty, and thy wealth, are gone.

Nature wears the color of the spirit;

Sweetly to her worshipper she sings;
All the glow, the grace she doth inherit,
Round her trusting child she fondly flings.

HARRIET WINSLOW.

DIRGE IN CYMBELINE.

To fair Fidele's grassy tomb

Soft maids and village hinds shall bring Each opening sweet of earliest bloom, And rifle all the breathing Spring.

No wailing ghost shall dare appear,

To vex with shrieks this quiet grove; But shepherd lads assemble here,

And melting virgins own their love.

No withered witch shall here be seen,
No goblins lead their nightly crew;
The female fays shall haunt the green,
And dress thy grave with pearly dew.

The redbreast oft, at evening hours,
Shall kindly lend his little aid.
With hoary moss, and gathered flowers,

To deck the ground where thou art laid.

When howling winds and beating rain
In tempests shake the sylvan cell,

Or midst the chase, on every plain,

The tender thought on thee shall dwell,