BY THOMAS FITZGERALD.
———
Ah! weary days have passed since last we met,
But not with time has distance longer grown!
My heart, well-tutored, never can forget
Its love for thee, my beautiful, my own!
I would that I were near thee, gentle one,
To see thee gladly smile, and hear thee speak,
And list the sweetness of thy silver tone,
And mark the changes on thy blushing cheek!