All with life teem,
While the sweet stars above
Blissfully gleam.
V. MARGARET AT HER SPINNING-WHEEL.
MY heart is sad,
My peace is o'er;
I find it never
And nevermore.
When gone is he,
The grave I see;
The world's wide all
Is turned to gall.
Alas, my head
Is well-nigh crazed;
My feeble mind
Is sore amazed.