Fly on the enchanted cord in syllables! The fabled chain connecting Earth with Heaven, - And o'er its surface weave a mystic web Of tissued wire-work, like to human nerves, · All nations, and all kindreds, and all tongues,- Man's mind with necromantic art hath plucked To the wide brotherhood of human-kind! EDMUND FLAGG. THE WITHERED FLOWERS. I KNEW they would perish! Though with fond, gentle care So all that is brightest Ever first fades away, And the joys that leap lightest, The earliest decay. The heart that was nearest, The wildest will rove, And the friend that was dearest, Yet still though thy flowers In that hallowed shrine, only, Then I'll mourn ye no more, Ye pale leaves that are shed, Though your brightness is o'er, Your perfume is not fled; And like thine aroma The spirit of flowers Remembrance will hover O'er the grave of past hours. EDMUND FLAGG. SMILES OFT DECEIVE US. The saddest heart oft gayest seems, And joins the merry glee, While breaking are its tender chords, Then trust not to a smiling face, Or heart that merry seems, For in that heart may sorrow be, Though joy from out it beams. 'FRANK GREENWOOD.' Ан, do not say the heart is light, And free from every care, Around the monumental stone The gayest flowers may creep — The breast may wither chill and lone, Unseen unknown- the electric dart Though all is shade and shower. |