The world thinks us lonely—’tis true we’re alone,
Not as twin-spirits only—our hearts are but one —
With no parent, no brother, no glad, happy home,
We’re the world to each other, wherever we roam,
And my young life glides onward like spring’s sunny tide
When I dwell with “mine own one”—my “love of a Lide!”
Memphis, 1850.
SCENE ON THE OHIO.
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