And clearer shows the worthless waste within;
And one by one, th’ idolators resign
The wavering flame of their Parhelion’s shrine.
The mysterious book was then handed to Georgine, who took it tranquilly, and read in a most musically modulated voice, while a faint rose-color warmed her usually hueless cheek.
TO ——.
Ah! do not let us worse than waste,
In idle dalliance, hours so dear;
At best, the light-winged moments haste
Too quickly by with hope and fear.
Be ours to wreath, (as swift in flight