My heart is like a river,
Flowing ever to the sea;
Its joyous waters bounding

With a wild and gushing glee.
It sings at break of morning;
It sings the night to see;
And the song 'tis ever singing
Begins and ends with thee.

My heart is full of sunshine,
And smiles on all below;
It cheers the heart of childhood,
And age's head of snow.

It will not know of sorrow,

But is blithe as blithe can be ;

And longs not for to-morrow,

While to-day is spent with thee.

THE LOVERS.

THY arms were twined around my neck, That solemn twilight hour;

And hope, and joy love would not check, Held me beneath their power.

The silent sky's calm, cloudless grace

Enfolded us around;

And in thy pure and rapt embrace
A Paradise I found.

There was no stir in all the air,

From tree, or bird, or wind; The waving of thy flowing hair . Left not a sound behind.

Heart-throbbing whispers only passed, Loveful, 'tween thee and me,

And sweetly trembling, thick and fast, They fell in ecstasy.

Then came faith's earnest look and word,
And then love's sealing kiss ;-
Oh God, that hour the angels heard
A mortal's throb of bliss!

GOING HOME.*

Now we are going home, Mary-
O years have passed away,

Since first these blessed words, Mary,

My lips to you did say.

The summer sun was high and bright,
The earth with flowers was gay,
But gayer, brighter far was I—
It was our wedding-day.

Now we are going home, Mary

O you remember well,

When next these words I said, Mary,

We'd buried little Nell:

And lonely-hearted home we went ;
It seemed a gloomy place,

Till God in his good mercy changed,

Our sorrow into grace.

Now we are going home, Mary—
The brighter home above ;
Where Angel Ellen waits, Mary,
To greet us with her love.

Nor grief, nor pain, nor care, nor woe,
Can cross its sacred door-

There thou, and I, and she, will dwell At home for evermore.

ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.

My heart is buoyant, blithe and free,
And to itself is singing
A song of wondrous melody,

With joy and rapture ringing-
A love-inspired and loveful lay,
To welcome in Love's chosen Day.

Oh, could I wed it into words,
In all it glorious vaunting,
No song of Spring-enraptured birds

Could match its gladsome chanting! A stream of golden words were they Could fitly sing Love's chosen Day.

1858.

A song of laughter, life, and flowers;
Of all things bright and loving;
Of youth and beauty; sunny showers,
And pleasant fields for roving;
Of shady lanes, where lovers gay
Might welcome in Love's chosen Day.

Of rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes;
Of lips made for the kissing;
Of dimpled chins, Dan Cupid's prize,
He never will be missing;

Of plighted troths, which none betray,
When made on this, Love's chosen Day.

Love's rarest glories in the strain
Would find a fit revealing,

If all that's humming in my brain,
And through my senses stealing,
Were clothed in words to grace the lay
In honour of Love's chosen Day.

But still the wordless strain goes on,
All beauteous fancies raising,
Yet ever ends in praise of One
Who is above all praising.
For her alone this Lay of mine;
My own, my love-my Valentine

A SONG FOR ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.

BEFORE the sun had kissed the East,
Or oped the petals of the flowers,
A little songster left his nest,

His mossy bed, and leafy bowers;
And 'neath my window carolled free,
What now I carol, Love, to thee.

"Sweet, sweet, sweet! O sweet is love!
Tira, lira; sweet, sweet, sweet!
Cheep, cheep, cheep; come let us prove
Love's thrilling joys, for life is fleet.

Cheep, cheep, cheep; how sweet, sweet, sweet,
Tira, lira, when lovers meet!

"Sweet, sweet, sweet; O sweet the kiss,

Tira, lira; sweet, sweet, sweet!

Cheep, cheep, cheep; when fond lips press

So press, fond lips, for life is fleet.

Cheep, cheep, cheep; how sweet, sweet, sweet,

Tira, lira, when lovers meet!

"Sweet, sweet, sweet! sweet is wooing:

Tira, lira ; sweet, sweet, sweet!

Cheep, cheep, cheep, doves are cooing,

And so let us, for life is fleet!

Cheep, cheep, cheep; how sweet, sweet, sweet, Tira, lira, when lovers meet!