I folded her soft hands upon her bosom,

And strewed my flowers upon her, — they still live: Sometimes I like to kiss her closed white eyelids, And think of all the joy she used to give.

Cruel indeed it were to take her from me;
She sleeps, she will not wake-no fear-again :
And so I laid her, such a gentle burthen,
Quietly on my heart to still its pain.

I do not think that any smiling Present,
Any vague Future, spite of all her charms,
Could ever rival her. You know you laid her,
Long years ago, then living, in my arms.

Leave her at least: while my tears fall upon her,
I dream she smiles, just as she did of yore;
As dear as ever to me - nay, it may be,
Even dearer still-since I have nothing more.

A DOUBTING HEART.

HERE are the swallows fled?

Frozen and dead,

Perchance upon some bleak and stormy shore.

O doubting heart!

Far over purple seas,

They wait, in sunny case,

The balmy southern breeze,

To bring them to their northern homes once more.

Why must the flowers die?

Prisoned they lie

In the cold tomb, heedless of tears or rain.
O doubting heart!
They only sleep below

The soft white ermine snow,
While winter winds shall blow,

To breathe and smile upon you soon again.

The sun has hid its rays
These many days;

Will dreary hours never leave the earth?
O doubting heart!

The stormy clouds on high
Veil the same sunny sky,

That soon (for spring is nigh)

Shall wake the summer into golden mirth.

Fair hope is dead, and light

Is quenched in night.

What sound can break the silence of despair? O doubting heart!

Thy sky is overcast,

Yet stars shall rise at last,

Brighter for darkness past,

And angels' silver voices stir the air.

A STUDENT.

VER an ancient scroll I bent,
Steeping my soul in wise content,
Nor paused a moment, save to chide
A low voice whispering at my side.

I wove beneath the stars' pale shine
A dream, half human, half divine;
And shook off (not to break the charm)
A little hand laid on my arm.

I read; until my heart would glow
With the great deeds of long ago;
Nor heard, while with those mighty dead,
Pass to and fro a faltering tread.

On the old theme I pondered long, —
The struggle between right and wrong;
I could not check such visions high,
To soothe a little quivering sigh.

I tried to solve the problem - Life;
Dreaming of that mysterious strife,
How could I leave such reasonings wise,
To answer two blue pleading eyes?

I strove how best to give, and when,
My blood to save my fellow-men,
How could I turn aside, to look
At snowdrops laid upon my book?

Now Time has fled the world is strange,
Something there is of pain and change;
My books lie closed upon the shelf;
I miss the old heart in myself.

I miss the sunbeams in my room
It was not always wrapped in gloom :
I miss my dreams - they fade so fast,
Or flit into some trivial past.

The great stream of the world goes by;
None care, or heed, or question, why
I, the lone student, cannot raise
My voice or hand as in old days.

No echo seems to wake again
My heart to anything but pain,
Save when a dream of twilight brings
The fluttering of an angel's wings!

A KNIGHT ERRANT.

HOUGH he lived and died among us,
Yet his name may be enrolled
With the knights whose deeds of daring
Ancient chronicles have told.

Still a stripling, he encountered
Poverty, and struggled long,
Gathering force from every effort,

Till he knew his arm was strong.

Then his heart and life he offered

To his radiant mistress - Truth; Never thought, or dream, or faltering, Marred the promise of his youth.

So he rode forth to defend her,

And her peerless worth proclaim; Challenging each recreant doubter Who aspersed her spotless name.

First upon his path stood Ignorance,
Hideous in his brutal might;
Hard the blows and long the battle
Ere the monster took to flight,

Then, with light and fearless spirit,
Prejudice he dared to brave;
Hunting back the lying craven

To her black sulphureous cave.

Followed by his servile minions,
Custom, the old Giant, rose;
Yet he, too, at last was conquered
By the good Knight's weighty blows.

Then he turned, and, flushed with victory,
Struck upon the brazen shield
Of the world's great king, Opinion,
And defied him to the field.

Once again he rose a conqueror,

And, though wounded in the fight,

With a dying smile of triumph

Saw that Truth had gained her right.