Frosts of an hour! Fruits of a season!
Who foresees them? Slain in a day,
The loves of a lustrum. Who shall say
The heart has sense or the soul has reason?
... One not knowing and one not caring.
... Leaves in their pathway. Let them part;
She with the gifts of a gracious bearing,
He with the pangs of a passionate heart.

In the place where the grizzly reposes,
Under peaks where a right is a wrong,
I have memories richer than roses,
Sweet echoes more sweet than a song;
Sounds sweet as the voice of a singer
Made sacred with sorrows unsaid,
And a love that implores me to linger
For the love of dead days and their dead.
But I turn, throwing kisses, returning
To strife and to turbulent men,
As to learn to be wise, as unlearning
All things that were manliest then.

If earth is an oyster, love is the pearl,
As pure as pure caresses;
Then loosen the gold of your hair, my girl,
And hide my pearl in your tresses,
So, coral to coral and pearl to pearl,
And a cloud of curls above me,
O bury me deep, my beautiful girl,
And then confess you love me.
The world goes over my beautiful girl
In glitter and gold and odor of roses,
In eddies of splendor, in oceans of pearl,
But here the heaven reposes. ...
The world is wide; men go their ways,
But love it is wise, and of all the hours,

1

In the dark Earth his body lies —
Deep hid from mortal sight;
Clos'd, ever clos'd, those beaming eyes —
That gave me such delight.

2

Cold as the turf that covers him —
He whom the parent mourns;
Corruption triumphs o'er each limb —
And dust to dust returns.

3

O with what rapture viewed we all —
His sweet, his manly form;
Ah, could we think so soon he'd fall —
A victim to the worm.

4

And yet that body cloth'd a mind —
That with devotion glow'd;

G R eat, Good, and Just, Valiant, and Wise,
New-Englands common Sacrifice :
The Prince of War, the Bond of Love,
A True Herorick Martial Dove:
Pardon I croud his Parts so close,
Which all the World in measure knows.
We envy Death, and well we may,
Who keeps him under Lock and Key.

I.

I THINK I've looked on eyes that shone
With equal splendour,
And some, but they are dimmed and gone,
As wildly tender.
I never looked on eyes that shed
Such home-light mingled with such beauty, —
That 'mid all lights and shadows said,
" I love and trust and will be true to ye. "

II.

I've seen some lips almost as red,

I.

Why should not I take her unto my heart!
She has not a morsel of guile or art;
Why should not I make her my happy wife,
And love her and cherish her all my life?
I've met with a few of as shining eyes,
I've met with a hundred of wilder sighs,
I think I met some whom I loved as well —
But none who loved me like my Darling Nell.

II.

She's ready to cry when I seem unkind,
But she smothers her grief within her mind;
And when my spirit is soft and fond,
She sparkles the brightest of stars beyond.

I.

The summer brook flows in the bed,
The winter torrent tore asunder;
The sky-lark's gentle wings are spread,
Where walk the lightning and the thunder:
And thus you'll find the sternest soul
The greatest tenderness concealing,
And minds, that seem to mock control,
Are ordered by some fairy feeling.

II.

Then, maiden! start not from the hand
That's hardened by the swaying sabre —

I.

O H ! lady, think not that my heart has grown cold,
 If I woo not as once I could woo;
Though sorrow has bruised it, and long years have rolled,
 It still doats on beauty and you;
And were I to yield to its inmost desire
 I would labour by night and by day,
'Till I won you to flee from the home of your sire,
 To live with your love far away.

II.

But it is that my country's in bondage, and I
 Have sworn to shatter her chains!
By my duty and oath I must do it or lie
 A corse on her desolate plains:

I.

To the conqueror his crowning,
First freedom to the slave
And air unto the drowning,
Sunk in the ocean's wave —
And succour to the faithful,
Who fight their flag above,
Are sweet, but far less grateful
Than were my lady's love.

II.

I know I am not worthy
Of one so young and bright;
And yet I would do for thee
Far more than others might;
I cannot give you pomp or gold,