Silent he walked in the cloudless night,
Her eyes the stars above;
Her voice in the thrilling wind from the south;
His world—her world of love!—
Love, that will live and the loved one gone;
Love, that will live and forever live on—
Living alone!
Heart of the forest, and soul of the rock,
Star eyes in heaven that gleam,
Voice of the wind that thrilled his heart,
And are ye all a dream?
Dream! then let him through life dream on.
Dream! yes, Dream till life is gone!
Living alone!
[THE TAXIDERMIST.]
BY FITZ-HUGH LUDLOW.
I.—THE OLD MAID'S CHAPTER.
——'Die, if dying I may give
Life to one who asks to live,
And more nearly,
Dying thus, resemble thee!'
'Ciel! Zat is ze true heroique! Zat is ze very far finest ting in all ze literature anglaise! Zere have not been made vun more sublime poesie by your immortel Villiams Shakyspeare! Glorieux! Vat a grandeur moral of ze woman who vill vonce die for her love!'
'Once? I knew a woman who died thrice for hers.'