“When I am hid in yonder grave!

Not one! to dress with flow’rs the stone;—

Then—surely, I am left alone!”

The MISTLETOE.
A CHRISTMAS TALE.

A Farmer’s Wife, both young and gay,

And fresh as op’ning buds of May;

Had taken to herself, a Spouse,

And plighted many solemn vows,

That she a faithful mate would prove,

In meekness, duty, and in love!