While the moonlight gently slept, To the piano I stole, And the closing evening crept, While thus poured forth my restless soul. XXIX. Eva, if those eyes of thine, So bright, so full of tender love, The moon should watch us from the sky, And each breeze in sporting by, Scattered rose leaves at thy feet. The stars would twinkle brighter still When your hand was laid on mine, When you yielded your sweet will, Making all my wishes thine. The breeze would sigh replete with joy, With the tresses gently toy, Wave the ribbons streaming there, Breathing of far southern climes, When thou and I might rest alone. Then a warmer blush would spread Then my bosom would return Every sigh breathed forth from thine; Every pulse would fiercely burn, With the joy to know thee mine. Life would then indeed be gay, Every joy our love should prove, Like yon shining star of May, Fed with hope, and born in love. XXX. Ah! those notes so sweet prolong, Like the lark when first at dawn He carols forth the lay of morn. At my side oh, stay! Till the evening shadows pass away. I can listen to thy voice, Hear the accents of thy choice. Song to me is ever dear, Songs, like thine, I love to hear. Sing on, prolong the lay, Till the evening shadows pass away. Yesternoon I thought of thee, While the evening falls, Till the evening shadows pass away. I shall think when thou art gone, Song closing the day, Till the evening shadows pass away. XXXI. Eva is grieved. She has been told When Annie and Alfred are together, The part of gooseberry the old. Alone they must not stay. Gooseberry or propriety, At theatre, or at ball, A third one with the lovers ; 'Tis a sister's duty. If she be a beauty, And in comes another, Perchance, the lover's brother. Then he can amuse Her who plays propriety, Else she feels satiety In an undertone, About their love alone Is really very slow To Eva, at least 'tis so. Eva, who, so gay and sprightly, Certain social cares; What though Eva tires, Where is he who dares To break the rules of society, And from his inmost heart, 'Tis time, for present civilisation Is a constant battle, "Twixt the nature of the nation And the artificial rattle, Growing year by year, Advancing too fast for fear. How can this state of things have end, In confusion and shame be driven, For neglecting, 'midst the strife for wealth, F |