When with a solemn brow we chide

The daring thoughts would upward guide; Creep careful on—afraid of falling—

And laud" the common sense" of crawling!

Yet Disappointment hath a keen

And serpent tooth. And oft, methinks, "Twere better if no Hope had been,

So had we 'scaped the galling links By which, when Hope expires, we have A deathless bondage to her grave!

Now let us for awhile transport
Ourselves into a quiet chamber

Within the Brother's cot; you see
Thickly around the casement clamber

The woodbine's emerald leaves that court
The painted sun-fly and the bee.

The lattice reached the mossy sward,
Rich with the cowslip's golden hoard;
And that loved Flower which Poets say
Laughs up-the glad "Eyes of the Day."
And now, in Eve's embrace reposing,
Its drowsy lids is whitely closing.

Within that chamber there are those

Whom Nature rules, no less than o'er

The flowers and herbs around; the rose
Bares to the Day her heart's rich core;

So Beauty melloweth unto one;

So the heart opens to its sun!

By Mary's side, her hand in his,

Her lover kneeleth,

And from that hand his truant kiss
Still to her ripe cheek stealeth.
But Sorrow pales its wonted hue,
She feels not now the thrill,

The glow-that rouse and yet subdue ;—
Her heart lies mute and chill.

And he ev'n he-the while he sought
Her grief to comfort or to chide,
Ev'n he felt one o'erpowering thought
Of anguish stifle all beside.

"Be soothed," he said, "we part, but yet "One hope our severed souls will cheer,

"And all the past we most regret,

"Shall chase away the future fear.

"Oh! while in distant lands I toil

"For wealth thy Sire's consent to buy, "Thy thoughts, like dew, shall bless the soil, "Thy love, like stars, smile from the sky. "And never, love, believe me, never

"Did those who through all changes bore

"The heart unchanging-Fate so sever

"But that they met-we'll meet once more! 'Be true to me,'

"I do not say,

"I know that deep and tender heart! "I only tell thee—' Live to see

"How lov'd-how truly lov'd-thou art !' "Ah! what are years to those whose thought "Can bear them o'er the gulf of space?

66

By grief itself my soul hath bought "The right to fly to thine embrace! "Methinks, if when, once more we meet, "The form be bowed, the locks be thin; ""Tis but thy welcome eyes to greet,

"To light Youth's lamp once more within! "Age is not made for us!-No! all

"The Past defies its withering breath! "The snows of Time on Love may fall, "And only warm the soil beneath.

"Well weep-weep on ! for hearts like ours
"Methinks 'tis sometimes wise to weep!
"For if our love had flowed o'er flowers,
"It ne'er had been a stream so deep!

"If Joy the fancy most beguiles,

""Tis Grief that to the heart endears;

"Oh! slight the love which springs from smiles, "To that which has been nurst in tears!"

He ceast-for many feelings rushed
Upon him, and all language hushed.
O'er his hands his face he bent,

And his breast heaved thick and high;
But not a sound from his closed lips went,
His thoughts warred silently.

But Mary o'er him bowed her fond

And anxious eyes, that ceased to weep:
When those she loves she sees despond,
A woman's sorrow glides to sleep;
She shames the grief so lately bared,
And comforts where she just despaired.

"Thou speakest well," she answered, placing On his her wan and trembling hand,

"And henceforth every dark thought chasing, "The Seraph Hope, we will withstand. "I often think, that breasts may be

"In absence only more allied: “A moment's thought estranged from thee "Were nothing, wert thou by my side; "And I have vexed thee-to my shame,

66

"When thou wert by, and I was gay,

But, oh! the least look thou could'st blame, "I could not look-and thou away!

"And if our love--"

He lifts his eye

Upon her worn and altered cheek; And his words, fierce and suddenly, Upon her melting accents break.

"Our love! oh, name it not !--I feel
"Now-now, how guilty I have been !
Why did I let my lips reveal

66

"What should have preyed untold within?

"Our love!--my love hath blighted thee

66

"And thine !-Oh, would that I could tear Away that holy band, and be

"The only victim to despair!"

"Julian!" Her voice's music trembling,

Lulled his disturbed soul,

As, thought in tenderness dissembling,

Gently its whispers stole.

"What, wouldst thou change what now thou bearest, "Ne'er to have been beloved by me?

"And think'st thou I would take the fairest

"Lot, for one memory less of thee? "When the poor Indian boy to day,

"Redeemed-regenerate--and released,

"I saw bound forth upon his way,

"On nature and glad thought to feast;