Montgomery.
My heart is sad and lonely,
With weariness I pine;
Would thou wert here, mine only,—
Would I were wholly thine!
H. J. H.
If spirits, pure as those who kneel
Around the throne of light above,
The power of beauty’s spell could feel,
And lose a heaven for woman’s love,—
What marvel that a heart like mine
Enraptured by thy charms should be!
Forget to bend at glory’s shrine,
And lose itself—ay, heaven—for thee!
Memorial.
Fain would I speak the thoughts I bear to thee,
But they do choke and flutter in my throat,
And make me like a child.
Joanna Baillie.