FRIENDSHIP'S GIFT. LINES TO FLORENCE. WINTHROP M. PRAED. LONG years have passed with silent pace, Unaided, Florence! save by love; And unremembered save by thee! We met! and hope beguiled our fears Hope, ever bright, and ever vain; We parted thence in silent tears, Never to meet in life — again. The myrtle that I gaze upon, So long bewailed-so dearly prized. When gifts of love are doubly dear; You gave it and one tender leaf Glistened the while with Beauty's tear. A tear-oh! lovelier far to me, With distant hopes of future weal; O'er desert sand and thorny brake, In scenes of bliss and hours of pride, I looked upon the gift — and sighed : I thought upon thy fading form; And of a heart-still all thine own Art laid in that unconscious sleep, Which he that wails thee soon must know, Where none may smile, and none may weep, None dream of bliss or wake to wo. If e'er, as Fancy oft will feign, To that dear spot which gave thee birth Thy fleeting shade returns again, To look on him thou lov'dst on earth, |