Part 3 (2/2)

When the toils of the day are done, When its trials and cares are o'er; When the forces of mind and body are run, And the heart is sore;

How welcome to me is thy rest-- The breath of approaching peace, Which soothes the soul with a prospect blest Of sweet release!

May my life be such that so At its even this comfort I'll have!

For sleep is the symbol of death, and thou Art the sign of the grave.

Separation.

Parted cruelly from thee, What, Oh! what is life to me?

'Tis the morn without the lark; It is wine without its spark.

Christmas time without its glee; Music without harmony.

New Year's eve devoid of mirth; Winter night without the hearth.

'Tis a day without the light; 'Tis a moonless, starless night.

Thorn-bush, barren of its leaf; Weeping, without its relief.

'Tis a fire, but unconsuming; Poisonous plant, but never blooming.

s.h.i.+p becalmed, without its peace; Death, without its sweet release.

Treasured Memories.

The playful way thy wanton hair Was tossing in the wind; Thy girlish, vain vexation Is treasured in my mind.

Held in my heart each sacred spot, O'er which we roamed at will: The rose that bloomed upon thy breast Blooms in my memory still.

Still do I see thy sunny smile, In sportive dimples traced, Like truant beams of morning light By flitting fairies chased.

Thy merry, maiden laughter still Is ringing in my ear, As silver streams in sylvan shades Make music sweet to hear.

To ------

Fair one! embodiment of Loveliness!

Angelic beauty beams upon thy countenance, And from its image of Lucretian purity Thine inborn virtue s.h.i.+nes divinely forth.

Thy sparkling eyes of bright cerulean blue, Rich sapphire gems, flash with Arcadian artlessness, Impelling Cupid's arrows, pa.s.sion-fraught, Discharged from bow of myrtle 'gainst my heart, Which throbs and flutters, quivering from the thrust.

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