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And may our bappy portion be,
TO MY SOUL.
WRITTEN IN SICKNESS.
Be patient yet, my soul, thou hast not long
poor possessors, and their trifling schemes
And, hailed by beings pure, who know no care,
Farewell ! for I have schooled
heart At last to say farewell to thee ! Now I can bear to look on death,
Ils bitterness is past for me.
The faded brow, the pallid lip,
Proclaim what soon my fate will be; And welcome is their tale of death,
For I have said farewell to thee!
When first we met, I saw thee all
A girl's imagining could feign ; I did not dream of loving thee,
Still less of being loved again.
I felt it not, till round my
heart Link after link the chain was wove; Then burst at once upon my
brain The maddening thought-- I love! I love!
We then were parting, others wept,
But I let not one tear drop fall ;
Mine was the coldest of them all.
But mine the ear that strained to hear
Thy latest step; and mine the eye That watched thy distant shape, when none
But me its shadow could descry.
And when the circle in its mirth
Had quite forgot Farewell and Thee, I went to my own room, and wept
The tears I would not let thee see.
And time passed on; but not with time
Did thoughts of thee and thine depart; The lesson of forgetfulness
Was what I could not teach my heart.
We met again, and women's pride
Nerved me to what I had to bear ;
Have let thee find thine image there.
I felt thine eyes gazing on mine;
I felt my hand within thine hold;
And I was calm, and I was cold.
I knew the day, the very hour,
you were wed, and heard your vow; I heard the wedding bells-0 God!
Mine ear rings with them even now!
1 may not say that you were false,
I never had one vow from thee; But I have often seen thine eye
Look as it loved to look on me.
And when you spoke to me, your voice
Would always take a softer tone; And surely that last night your cheek
Was almost pallid as my own.
But this is worse than vain Farewell!
Of heaven now I only crave For thee all of life's happiness, And for myself an early grave!
Miss L. E. Landon.
DEATH OF A CHRISTIAN.
Calm on the bosom of thy God,
Fair spirit ! rest thee now!
His seal was on thy brow.
Dust to its narrow house beneath !
Soul to its place on high!