But O belov’ed, now that we have made
The golden secret ours—to hold alway
We will not sorrow o’er departed hours—
Just live in God’s great glorious—To-day!
JEWELS
OH, not the gracious deeds your kindness knew, dear,
When shone my sun and skies were ever fair;
But the more precious sympathies you tendered
In sorrow’s hour. Those my jewels rare
Which dearer, than off’ring wealth knows to proffer,
I’ll keep beside me whate’er may attend,
Nor render up so long as Life’s day lasteth,—
Aye, and take with me, when shall plead its end.
SOMETHING GONE
YOU come to me—you take my hand,
You try to make me see
Things should become as they once were,
’Twixt you and me.
I listen to each word, you say,
I mark well ev’ry tone,
Only to find—you plead in vain,—
There’s something gone.
Something gone—that cannot come back again,
Tho’ most entreatingly you pray.
Yet, not mine the fault,—but yours alone,
It went away.