THE LOVE MY HEART ACCORDED YOU.
The blossoms fold their silken leaves,
But then they'll brightly bloom once more;
The stars have gone out one by one,
They'll beam as they have oft before.
The twilight with its pencillings
Has tipt with shade the distant lea-
To-morrow's sun will make all bright,
When, dearest, I will be with thee.
THE LOVE MY HEART ACCORDED YOU.
THE love my heart accorded you
Was proud, and pure, and strong:
It might have well rewarded you
For years of ruth and wrong.
You saw my spirit soaring high,
Nor follow'd where it flew ;
But strove with wild adoring sigh,
To make it stoop to you.
In vain; the fire it cherishes
For ever upward tends,
And when this frail frame perishes,
With heaven's own glory blends.
For no ignoble flame of yours,
Foregoes my love its light;
If it leave you, the shame be yours,
Who dared not share its flight.
Each tender glance I granted you,
Your passion false profaned;
Each whisper that enchanted you,
Your senses only chain'd.
And now but calm disdain I give,
Where once my soul I lent;
Escaped your thrall, again I live
In high and cold content.
MY HEART WAS LIKE A QUIET LAKE.
[Music by Stephen Glover.
My heart was like a quiet lake,
That flows within a tranquil dell,
Where all was sweetest peacefulness,
And echo e'en refused to dwell.
Upon its shores grew gentle flowers,
Light clouds were mirrored in its breast,
And o'er it flitted starry birds,
At even on their way to rest.
The sun of love dawned on that lake-
Each wavelet gleamed with amber rays,
The charm of quietude had flown-
All was a dream of former days.
Where clouds and flowers once had been,
Now Passion claimed the spot her own--
And oft, where birds rejoiced to sing,
Was heard the minstrel's plaintive tone.
SHE IS FLITTING LIKE A FAIRY.
MRS. OSGOOD.
SHE is flitting like a fairy
Through the mazes of the dance
Like a fairy, wild and airy,
And I cannot win her glance.
She has braided many a jewel
In those waves of auburn hair;
O fickle, false, and cruel,
Dost thou see my deep despair?
She has lost the rose I gave her,
In her virgin zone to rest;
And a ruby's light doth waver
On the snow-swell of her breast.
Ah! the gem is wealth's proud token,
And its glare has won her eye;
While the love the rose has spoken
She has cast unheeded by.
I KNEW NOT HOW I LOVED THEE.
I KNEW not how I loved thee-no!
I knew it not till all was o'er-
Until thy lips had told me so-
Had told me I must love no more!
I knew not how I loved thee !-yet
I long had loved thee wildly well;
I thought 'twere easy to forget-
I thought a word would break the spell:
And even when that word was spoken,
Ay! even till the very last,
I thought, that spell of faith once broken,
I could not long lament the past.
O foolish heart! O feeble brain!
That love could thus deceive subdue!
Since hope cannot revive again,
Why cannot memory perish too?
THE Conflict is over, the struggle is past—
I have look'd, I have loved, I have worshipp'd my last ;
And now back to the world, and let Fate do her worst
On the heart that for thee such devotion hath nursed.
To thee its best feelings were trusted away,
And life hath hereafter not one to betray.
Yet not in resentment thy love I resign;
I blame not-upbraid not-one motive of thine;
I ask not what change has come over thy heart,
I reck not what chances have doom'd us to part;
I but know thou hast told me to love thee no more,
And I still must obey where I once did adore.
Farewell, then, thou loved one-O! loved but too well,
Too deeply, too blindly, for language to tell-
Farewell! thou has trampled love's faith in the dust,
Thou has torn from my bosom its hope and its trust!
Yet, if thy life's current with bliss it would swell,
I would pour out my own own in this last fond farewell!
THE FETTER 'NEATH THE FLOWERS.
MRS. OSGOOD.
CUPID flung his garland gaily
O'er a maid in seeming play;
Sage experience whisper'd daily,
Break the chain while yet you may."
"Why?" she cried, "'tis but a toy,
Formed of many a fragrant flower;
Let me still its bloom enjoy,-
I can break it any hour.".
Long she sported freely, lightly,
With her soft and glowing chain ;-
"Nay! it clasps my heart so tightly,
I must break the toy in twain."
Vain resolve! the tie that bound her,
Harden'd 'neath her struggling will;
Fast its blossoms fell around her,
But the fetter linger'd still.
WE PARTED IN SADNESS.
C. FENNO HOFFMAN.
WE parted in sadness, but spoke not of parting;
We talked not of hopes that we both must resign;
I saw not her eyes-and but one tear-drop starting,
Fell down on her hand as it trembled in mine.
Each felt that the past we could never recover,
Each felt that the future no hope could restore;
She shudder'd at wringing the heart of her lover,
I dared not to say I must meet her no more.
Long years have gone by, and the spring-time smiles ever,
As o'er our young loves it first smiled in their birth;
Long years have gone by, yet that parting, oh! never
Can it be forgotten by either on earth.
The note of each wild-bird that carols toward heaven,
Must tell her of swift-winged hopes that were mine;
And the dew that steals over each blossom at even,
Tells me of the tear-drop that wept their decline.
That old, familiar tree,
Whose glory and renown
Are spread o'er land and sea-
And wouldst thou hew it down?
Woodman, forbear thy stroke!
Cut not its earth-bound ties;
Oh! spare that aged oak,
Now tow'ring to the skies!
When but an idle boy,
I sought its grateful shade;
In all their gushing joy,
Here, too, my sisters play'd.
My mother kiss'd me here,
My father press'd my hand;
I ask it with a tear,-
Oh! let that old oak stand!
My heart-strings round thee cling,
Close as thy bark, old friend!
There shall the wild bird sing,
And still thy branches bend.
Still the wild storm thou'lt brave,
Then, woodman, leave the spot
While I've a hand to save,
Thy axe shall harm it not.
It is scarcely necessary to remark that this song is as popular in England as in America-an observation that applies to many lyrics of the same author.
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