But should we meet in darker years,

When clouds have gathered round thy brow,

How far more precious in thy tears,

Than in thy glow of gladness, now!

Then come to me,-thy wounded heart
Shall find it has a haven still,

One bosom-faithless as thou art,

All-all thine own, 'mid good and ill!

Thou leavest me for the world!—then go! Thou art too young to feel it yet,

But time may teach thy heart to know

The worth of those who ne'er forget.

And, should that world look dark and cold,

Then turn to him whose silent truth

Will still love on, when worn and old,
The form it loved so well in youth!

Like that young bird that left its nest,
Lured, by the warm and sunny sky,

From flower to flower,-but found no rest,
And sought its native vale to die ;-

Go! leave my soul to pine alone;

But, should the hopes that woo thee, wither, Return, my own beloved one!

And let-oh, let us die together!

THE EXILE.

A FRAGMENT:

THE ship goes forth, in all her pageantry,
To walk the wide sea-waves!—her silver wings,
Spread in the dying day-light, like a bird

That seeks for summer in a brighter clime!

-One stands upon the deck; and, through the war

Of waters, watches where the blood-red sun

Sinks o'er his own far valley of the west,

And lights the distant home that never more

Shall come, with all its music -out in dreams!
Never shall vision rise upon

his sight

Like that, this moment, o'er the billows fading,
Dim in the distance !-Onward goes the ship,
To meet the rising sun !—but on his soul

Has sunk-morn shall not lighten it !-the night
Descending o'er his own Hesperia !

The vessel wanders onwards!-onwards still,
In music and in moonlight!—and the waves-
The little wavelets-lighted by the moon,
Play, like a thousand stars, upon its path!
And the light pennon streams upon a breeze,
Winged with the perfume of far orange-bowers!
And birds go flashing by, like silver gleams,
Or ride, like snow-flakes, on the dancing waves!
And sounds steal o'er the waters!—and the breasts
Of many throb, with that delicious thrill

That marks the weariness and peril past;

And-where she rises-hail the glowing East,
Fair as a new-born Venus from the sea!

And eyes look out, where hearts have gone before,

Through many a weary day and heavy night,

All, all-save one!

He leans upon the deck,

And, through the waters, sends his spirit forth,
To seek another "land!"-For him-for him,
The ample world has but a single home;

All else a waste-of water or of plain,

What boots it which !—and the glad land-cry comes
Light to his ear-but heavy to his heart,
Marking the space he never must repass,

That hides the valley where he was a child!
-His mother's white-walled cottage-far away-
Lost-like the dove that wandered from the ark,
And never came again !—all this, and more,
A thousand thoughts-each one an agony !—
Swell in his bosom !—and he turns to weep,
Amid the smiles that greet the lovely land,
Where he is but AN EXILE!