The lily swung its noiseless bell, And o'er the porch the trembling | vine Seemed bursting with its veins of How sweetly, softly, twilight fell! Came to this world of ours! O Babie, dainty Babie Bell, How fair she grew from day to day! What woman-nature filled her eyes, What poetry within them lay: Those deep and tender twilight eyes. So full of meaning, pure and bright As if she yet stood in the light Of those oped gates of Paradise. And so we loved her more and more; Ah, never in our hearts before Was love so lovely born. The land beyond the morn. We said, Dear Christ! Our hearts bent down Like violets after rain. Her lissome form more perfect grew, And in her features we could trace, In softened curves, her mother's Her angel-nature ripened too. came, But she was holy, saintly now; Around her pale angelic brow We saw a slender ring of flame! God's hand had taken away the seal, She never was a child to us, It came upon us by degrees: And all our hopes were changed to fears, And all our thoughts ran into tears And now the orchards, which were Our hearts are broken, Babie Bell! white And red with blossoms when she At last he came, the messenger, The messenger from unseen lands; Were rich in autumn's mellow And what did dainty Babie Bell ? came, DESTINY. But... I wonder what day of the week, THREE roses, wan as moonlight and I wonder what month of the year. weighed down I WONDER What day of the week- What a hideous fancy to come As I wait, at the foot of the stair, While Lilian gives the last touch ɔ her robe, or the rose in her hair. Do I like your new dress - pompadour? And do I like you? On my life, moze, And have not been six years my wife. Those two rosy boys in the crib All sunshine, and snowy, and pure. As the carriage rolls down the dark street The little wife laughs and makes heer; UNSUNG. As sweet as the breath that goes In slumber, a hundred times I strive, but I strive in vain, RENCONTRE. TOILING across the Mer de Glace What miles of land and sea! My foe, undreamed of, at my side For those who love, the world is wide, THE FADED VIOLET. WHAT thought is folded in thy leaves! What tender thought, what speechless pain! I hold thy faded lips to mine, I hold thy faded lips to mine, Of something wilted like thy leaves; That found thee when thy dewy mouth Was purpled as with stains of wine -- That thon shouldst live when I am The thin swift pinion cleaving | Fairer it looked than when upon the through the gray. Till we awake ill fate can do no ill The resting heart shall not take up again The heavy load that yet must make it bleed; For this brief space the loud world's stem, And must, indeed, have been much happier. MAPLE LEAVES. October turned my maple's leaves to gold; The most are gone now; here and there one lingers; Soon these will slip from out the twigs' weak hold, Like coins between a dying miser's fingers. TO ANY POET. heavy tears! Out of the thousand verses you have writ, THE ROSE. If Time spare none, you will not care at all; Fixed to her necklace, like another If Time spare one, you will not know gem, of it: churchyard wall. A rose she wore the flower June Nor shame nor fame can scale a made for her; |