750
THE BEST GIFTS.
The best of gifts to mortal man is health;
The next, the bloom of beauty's matchless flower;
The third is blameless and unfraudful wealth;
The fourth with friends to use youth's joyous hour.
—Millman.
751
THE DYING GIRL TO HER LOVER.
Fare thee well, love, fare thee well,
From the world I pass away,
Where the brightest things that dwell
All deceive and all decay;
Cheerfully I fall asleep
As by some mysterious spell,
Yet I weep to see thee weep—
Fare thee well, love, fare thee well!
Tell of me, love, tell of me,
Not amid the heartless throng,
Not when passion bends the knee,
Not where pleasure trills the song.
But when some most cherish'd one
By your side at 'eve shall be,
Ere your twilight tales are done,
Tell of me, love, tell of me!
Leave me now, love, leave me now,
Not with sorrow, not with sighs,
Not with clouds, love, on thy brow,
Not with tears, love, in thine eyes.
We shall meet, we know not where,
And be blest, we dream not how,
With a kiss and with a prayer
Leave me now, love, leave me now!
—By Winthrop M. Praed.