THE HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT.
A spirit stealeth up and down the stairs
Noiseless as thistle-down upon the wind:
So calm—so sweetly calm—the look it wears:
Meltful as music is its voice—and kind.
Like lustrous violets full of twinkling life
Two orbs of beauty light its face divine:
And o'er its cheeks a dainty red runs rife,
Like languid lilies flusht with rosy wine.
Its velvet touch doth soothe where dwells a pain;
Its glance doth angelize each angry thought;
And, like a rainbow-picture in the rain,
Where tears fall thick its voice is comfort-fraught.
How like a seraph bright it threads along
Each room erewhile so desolate and dark,
Waking their slumbering echoes into song
As laughs the Morn when uproused by the lark.
Methinks a home doth wear its heavenliest light
When haunted by so good, so fair a sprite.
HAD I A HEART.
Had I a heart to give away
As when, in days that now are o'er,
We watcht the bright blue billows play,
Roaming along the sounding shore;
When joys like Summer blossoms bloom'd,
When love and hope were all our own;
I'd bring that heart—to sadness doomed—
And let it beat for thee alone.
Had I a heart to give away,
Its daily thought in life would be,
Like yonder bird, with trembling lay,
To sing sweet songs, dear love, of thee.
But, ah! the heart that once was mine
Is mine, alas! no more to give;
And joys that once were joys divine
In mem'ry now alone can live.