I paused in my pathway, for beauty was there; It was beauty too death-like, too cold, and too fair! The deep purple fountain seemed melting away, And the faint pulse of life scarce remembered to play; She had thought on the tomb, she was waiting for me, I gazed, I passed on, and her spirit was free.
The clear stream rolled gladly, and bounded along, With ripple, and murmur, and sparkle, and song; The minstrel was tuning his wild harp to love, And sweet, and half sad were the numbers he wove. I passed, and the harp of the bard was unstrung; O'er the stream which rolled deeply, 'twas recklessly hung; The minstrel was not! and I passed on alone, O'er the newly-raised turf and the rudely-carved stone.
THE BRIDE'S FAREWELL.
BY MARY E. BROOKS.
Farewell to thee, To thee, the young home of my heart, farewell! How often will thy form in memory Renew the spell; Each burning tone, Far sweeter than the wild bird's melting note; Across my spirit like a dream by-gone, Their voices float.
When rose the song, The life gush of the bosom, fresh and free, There breathed no sorrow as it swept along Thy halls of glee; Oh, when the gay, The merry hearted blend the tide again, Then fling to her, the loved one far away, One kindly strain.
The skies are bright That canopy thy bowers, my soul's young rest; And, like thy fairy visions, robed in light, The loveliest: The bird among Thy deep perfumes pours its rich melody; Oh, in the music of that matin song Remember me!
Another now, Mother, above thy silvery locks must bend; And when the death-shade gathers on thy brow, Who then will tend Thy fading light? Oh, in its gleam all feebly, tremblingly, The last gush of thy spirit in its flight, Remember me!
Sister, one sigh Upon the midnight's balmy breath did float; One love-lit smile beneath the summer sky, One echo note: Oh, never yet, Through love, life, music, feeling, fragrancy, Can I the mingling of those hours forget; Remember me!