Give to the wind each anxious thought
Which o'er our bliss a shade might cast;
These hours, by weary absence bought,
Should be all sunshine to the last.

What though we part again to-morrow,
For years, perhaps, no more to meet?
We will not of the future borrow

One pang to mar an hour so sweet.
Swell high the strain, then! let our souls
With mirth and gaiety be filled,
And brightly as each moment rolls,
Be drops of ecstasy distilled!

Hush, hark! amid our rapture now,

What strange, low, sorrowing tone comes near?

Why steals a shadow o'er each brow,

And through each mirthful smile a tear!

Alas the spirit can not brook

The voice of careless glee to-day!

But, from each thoughtless word and look,
Turns, sick and shuddering, away.

Oh, hush the song! lest feeling's tide
Grow mightier than may be controlled:
Then calmly seated, side by side,

Each other's hand we'll faintly hold.
Linger a little longer yet,

And breathe your sweet words o'er mine ear;

Oh, I can die-but ne'er forget

This hour, so beautiful and dear!

LOVE MESSENGERS.

YE little Stars, that twinkle high
In the dark vault of heaven,
Like spangles on the deep blue sky,
Perhaps to you 'tis given

To shed your lurid radiance now
Upon my absent loved one's brow.

Ye fleecy Clouds, that swiftly glide
O'er earth's oft-darkened way,-
Floating along in grace and pride,
Perhaps your shadows stray

E'en now across the starry light
That guides my wanderer forth to-night.

Ye balmy Breezes sweeping by,

And shedding freshness round,
Ye, too may haply as ye fly,

With health and fragrance crowned,
Linger a moment, soft and light,

To sport amid his tresses bright.

Then Stars, and Clouds, and Breezes, bear
My heart's best wish to him;
And say the feelings glowing there
Nor time nor change can dim;

That be success or grief his share,
My love still brightening shall appear.

STANZAS.

I WOULD not have thee deem my heart
Unmindful of those higher joys,
Regardless of that better part

Which earthly passion ne'er alloys.
I would not have thee think I live,
Within heaven's pure and blessed light,
Nor feeling nor affection give

To Him who makes my pathway bright.

I would not chain to mystic creeds
A spirit fetterless and free;

The beauteous path to heaven that leads
Is dimmed by earthly bigotry;
And yet for all that earth can give,

And all it e'er can take away,

I would not have that spirit rove
One moment from its heavenward way.

I would not that my heart were cold
And void of gratitude to Him,
Who makes those blessings to unfold
Which by our waywardness grow dim.
I would not lose the cherished trust
Of things within the world to come-
The thoughts, that when their joys are dust,
The weary have a peaceful home.

For I have left the dearly loved,
The home, the hopes of other years,
And early in its pathway proved

Life's rainbow hues were formed of tears..
I shall not meet them here again,

Those loved, and lost, and cherished ones,
Bright links in young Affection's chain-
In Memory's sky unsetting suns.

But perfect in the world above,

Through sufferings, woe, and trial here,
Shall glow the undiminished love

Which clouds and distance failed to sere:
But I have lingered all too long,

Thy kind remembrance to engage,

And woven but a mournful song,

Wherewith to dim thy brightest page..

WE'VE HAD OUR SHARE OF BLISS, BELOVED.

WE'VE had our share of bliss, beloved,

We've had our share of bliss;.

And 'mid the varying scenes of life,
Let us remember this.

If sorrows come, from vanished joy

We'll borrrow such a light

As the departed sun bestows

Upon the queen of night:

And thus, by Memory's moonbeams cheered,.

Hope's sun we shall not miss,

But tread life's path as gay as when.

We had our share of bliss.

'Tis true our sky hath had its clouds,

Our spring its stormy hours

When we have mourned, as all must mourn,

O'er blighted buds and flowers;

And true, our bark hath sometimes neared
Despair's most desert shore,

When gloomy looked the waves around,
And dark the land before:

But Love was ever at the helm

He could not go amiss,

So long as two fond spirits sang,
"We've had our share of bliss."

These holy watchwords of the Fast
Shall be the Future's stay-
For by their magic aid we'll keep
A host of ills at bay.

Our happy hearts, like tireless bees,
Have revelled 'mid the flowers,
And hived a store of summer sweets
To cheer life's wintry hours:
While Memory lives, and Love remain,
We'll ask no more than this-
But ever sing, in grateful strains,
"We've had our share of bliss."

GUNHILDA.

A MAIDEN sat beneath a tree,
Tear-bedewed her pale cheeks be,
And she sigheth heavily.

From forth the wood into the light
A hunter strides with carol light,
And a glance so bold and bright.

He careless stopped and eyed the maid: "Why weepest thou?" he gently said; "I love thee well-be not afraid."

He takes her hand, and leads her on;
She should have waited there alone,
For he was not her chosen one.

He leans her head upon his breast!
She knew 'twas not her home of rest,
But ah! she had been sore distressed.
The sacred stars looked sadly down,
The parting moon appeared to frown,
To see thus dimmed the diamond crown.

Then from the thicket starts a deer:
The huntsman, seizing on his spear,
Cries, "Maiden, wait thou for me here:"

She sees him vanish into night,
She starts in sleep in deep affright,
For it was not her own true knight!

Though but in dream Gunhilda failed,
Though but a fancied ill assailed,

Though she but fancied fault bewailed

Yet thought of day makes dream of night:
She is not worthy of the knight,

The inmost altar burns not bright.

Of loneliness thou canst not bear,
Can not the dragon's venom dare,
Of the pure meed thou shouldst despair.

Now sadder that lone maiden sighs,

Far bitterer tears profane her eyes,

Crushed in the dust her heart's flower lies.

SAY, CAN A MAIDEN'S HEART REFUSE.

SAY, can a maiden's heart refuse,
Her young affection to accord,
When fond, a tender lover sues
To reign her bosom's dearest lord?

But not till reason shall approve,
The object I must still adore,

I never will confess I love;

Ah! tell me can a maid do more?

Ah! why are youthful maidens form'd
So tender, yielding, but to love?
To hearts, with ardent passions warm'd,
Say, can they cold and ingrate prove?

True love is Beauty's richest bliss,
The dearest joy that life can give,
Woman in love an angel is,
Unloving, she should never live.

HAD I A HEART FOR FALSEHOOD FRAMED.

HAD I a heart for falsehood framed,

I ne'er could injure you;

For though your tongue no promise claimed,

Your charms.would make me true;