Which in dark hours of sadness
Would ever cling to me,
Even as clasps the humble vine
About the wild-wood tree.
THE END OF ROMANCE.
———
BY MRS. LYDIA JANE PEIRSON.
———
She was beautiful, and pure of heart, but from her very infancy a child of romance. In this short sentence is included a history of suffering, and a broken-hearted death. I will call her Grace. She was my near relative, and I loved her very dearly, though I could not always sympathize with her wild idealities.