I have loved since then with a woman's heart,
Have known all a woman's bliss,
But never a dream of the after life
Was ever so sweet as this.
The years went by with their silver feet,
And often I laughed with John
At the vows we made by the parlor door
When the moon and stars looked on.
Ah? boyish vows were broken and lost,
And a girl's first dream will end,
But I dearly loved his beautiful wife,
While he was my husband's friend.
When at last I went to my childhood's home
Far over the bounding wave,
I missed my friend, for the violets grew
And blossomed over his grave.
To-day as I opened the old blue box,
And looked on this soft brown curl,
And read of the love John left for me
When I was a little girl,
There came to my heart a throb of pain,
And my eyes grew moist with tears,
For the childish love and the dear, dear friend,
And the long-lost buried years.
DE PINT WID OLE PETE.
Upon the hurricane deck of one of our gunboats, an elderly looking darkey, with a very philosophical and retrospective cast of countenance, squatted on his bundle, toasting his shins against the chimney, and apparently plunged into a state of profound meditation. Finding, upon inquiry, that he belonged to the Ninth Illinois, one of the most gallantly behaved and heavy losing regiments at the Fort Donelson battle, I began to interrogate him upon the subject.