All over the surface shine?

But, if in pursuit we go deeper,

Allured by the gleam that shone, Ah! false as the dream of the sleeper, Like Love, the bright ore is gone.

Has Hope, like the bird in the story,
That flitted from tree to tree
With the talisman's glittering glory-

Has Hope been that bird to thee?
On branch after branch alighting,

The gem did she still display,
And, when nearest and most inviting,
Then waft the fair gem away?

If thus the young hours have fleeted,
When sorrow itself looked bright;
If thus the fair hope hath cheated,

That led thee along so light;
If thus the cold world now wither

Each feeling that once was dear: Come, child of misfortune, come hither, I'll weep with thee, tear for tear.

THE TIME I'VE LOST IN WOOING.

THE time I've lost in wooing, In watching and pursuing The light that lies

In woman's eyes,

Has been my heart's undoing. Though Wisdom oft has sought me, I scorned the lore she brought me, My only books

Were woman's looks,
And folly's all they've taught me.

Her smile when Beauty granted,
I hung with gaze enchanted,
Like him the Sprite
Whom maids by night
Oft meet in glen that's haunted.
Like him, too, Beauty won me,
But while her eyes were on me;

If once their ray
Was turned away,
Oh! winds could not outrun me.

And are those follies going?
And is my proud heart growing
Too cold or wise