F. W. BOURDILLON.

1852.

LOVE’S MEINIE. T here is no summer ere the swallows come, Nor Love appears, Till Hope, Love’s light-winged herald, lifts the gloom Of years. There is no summer left when swallows fly, And Love at last, When hopes which filled its heaven droop and die, Is past.
THE NIGHT HAS A THOUSAND EYES. T he night has a thousand eyes, And the day but one; Yet the light of the bright world dies With the dying sun. The mind has a thousand eyes, And the heart but one; Yet the light of a whole life dies When love is done.

A LOST VOICE. A thousand voices fill my ears All day until the light grows pale; But silence falls when night-time nears, And where art thou, sweet nightingale? Was that thine echo, faint and far? Nay, all is hushed as heaven above; In earth no voice, in heaven no star, And in my heart no dream of love.