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He would take in his constancy; Oh hope
Is very eloquent! and as the hours
Passed by their fireside in calm cheerfulness,
Ellen forgot to weep.

At length the time

Of parting came; 'twas the first month of spring.
Like a green fan spread the horse-chestnut leaves,
A shower of yellow bloom was on the elm,
The daisies shone like silver, and the boughs
Were covered with their blossoms, and the sky
Was like an augury of hope, so clear

So beautifully blue. Love! oh young Love!
Why hast thou not security? Thou art
Like a bright river on whose course the weeds
Are thick and heavy; briars are on its banks,
And jagged stones and rocks are mid its waves.
Conscious of its own beauty, it will rush
Over its many obstacles, and pant
For some green valley as its quiet home.
Either it rushes with a desperate leap
Over its barriers, foaming passionate,
But prisoned still; or winding languidly
Becomes dark, like oblivion, or else wastes
Itself away. This is Love's history!

They parted one spring evening; the green sea
Had scarce a curl upon its wave; the ship
Rode like a Queen of Ocean.-Ellen wept,
But not disconsolate, for she had hope;
She knew not then the bitterness of tears.

But night closed in, and with the night there came
Tempest upon the wind; the ocean light
Glared like a funeral pile; all else was black
And terrible as death. We heard a sound
Come from the ocean-one lone signal gun,
Asking for help in vain-followed by shrieks,

Borne by the ravening gale; then deepest silence:
Some gallant souls had perished. With the first
Dim light of morn we sought the beach; and there
Lay fragments of a ship, and human shapes
Ghastly and gashed. But the worst sight of all
A sight of living misery met our gaze;
Seated upon a rock, drenched by the rain,
Her hair torn by the wind, there Ellen sat,
Pale, motionless. How could love guide her there?
A corpse lay by her, in her arms its head
Found a fond pillow; and o'er it she watched
As the young mother watches her first child.
It was her lover.

SOLACE IN SORROW.

On! it is sweet, amid the waste of years,

To meet with one-be he till then unknown

That cometh from the land where first our feet have gone.

When friends are lost, hopes wither, and our tears Freeze in their fountains-but a voice breaks

through,

Hearts warm, hopes bloom, and eyes weep love anew!

It is a soft spring rain that doth awaken
The flowers of Paradise in grief to know

The friends of youth more blessed, or dream that it is so.

What though sure knowledge strive with hope and break

The illusive mirror? it betrayeth not

Is it not sweet though sad to prove them unforgot?

ROSALIND WITH A CHAIN.

"Wear this for me."As YoOU LIKE IT, Act. i., Sc. 2.

OH! wear this simple chain for me,
That, when long years have passed away,
Each severed link may offer thee

An emblem of my own decay.
Yet, no! an hour may see that chain
United by the hand of art;

But what can ever join again,

The rent links of a broken heart!

Recall the hours when Love's fond kiss
Gave transport to our cloudless youth;
Which lingered fondly-like my bliss-
Then fled for ever-like thy truth.

The cold world's frown-the proud man's scorn-
To be by all forgot-reviled-

Oh! these and more I could have borne,

Had'st thou but loved-had'st thou but smiled.

My love has been "too deep for tears,"
And sighs have told it-'twas confessed
By ruined health and blighted years,
By fallen hopes and vanished rest-
Yet wear this simple chain for me,
And keep it as a parting token
Of one, whose youthful love to thee,
Unlike his heart, remained unbroken.

REMEMBER ME.

REMEMBER me, when summer friends surround thee, And honied flatteries gain thy willing ear;

When fame and fortune's glittering wreaths have crowned thee,

And all is thine, thy fickle heart holds dear,

Then think of her whose changeless fortunes blessed

thee,

When hope was dark, and faithful friends were few, Who, when hard griping poverty depressed thee, And all beside seemed cold, was kind and true.

Remember me, in courtly hall and bower,

And when thou kneelest at some fond beauty's shrine, Ask of the past, if through life's varying hour, Its joys and griefs, her love can equal mine! And when thy youthful hopes are most excited, Should she prove false, and break her faith like thee, Think of the hopes thy wayward love hath blighted, And from that lesson learn to feel for me!

Remember me, and oh ! when fate hath 'reft thee,

Of fame and fortune, friends and love, and bliss, Come back to one thou knowest would ne'er have left

thee,

And she'll but chide thy falsehood with a kiss!
But no, no, no, I feel that life is waning,—
That what I was I never more can be,-

That I am fast on that sweet haven gaining,
Where there is rest for e'en a wretch like me!

320

REMEMBER ME.

Remember me! thou canst not sure refuse me,
The only boon from thee I ve sought or seek;
Soon will the world, with bitter taunts accuse me,
Yet wake no blushes on my bloodless cheek!
But I would have thee tender to my fame,

When I have 'scaped life's dark tumultuous sea;
And howsoe'er unkinder spirits blame,

As what thou knowest I was REMEMBER ME!

NIL DESPERANDUM.

YES, I am rich in all excuse to mourn
O'er broken hopes of life's deluded prime,
And many a heart-wish from my bosom torn,
And nothing left me but the "scorns of time."
But my firm soul despondence spurns as crime,
And champions Fate to sterner strife, or e'er
It gives the garland up-by all sublime

And restless energies that stir to dare,

Thou shalt not conquer me, dark-blooded fiend Despair!

Though the last canvass of my hope be furled,
I was not launched to founder in the gale;
But ride the roaring waters of the world,
Till bluer skies, and happier hours prevail,
Then spread the bosom of a bolder sail :

Full many a galley, at worse random cast,
That felt the billow and the blast assail,

The tempest hushed and all its perils past Has moored its weary keel on shores of peace at last.

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