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And hours passed in dreaming

Over their new-found fate,
Ere they could think of wondering
Why Alice was so late.

XV.

She came, and calmly listened;
In vain they strove to trace
If Herbert's memory shadowed
In grief upon her face.

No blame, no wonder showed there,
No feeling could be told;
Her voice was not less steady,

Her manner not more cold.

XVI.

They could not hear the anguish.
That broke in words of pain
Through the calm summer midnight,-
"My Herbert-mine again!"

Yes, they have once been parted,
But this day shall restore

The long lost one: she claims him:

"My Herbert-mine once more!"

XVII.

Now Christmas Eve returning,

Saw Alice stand beside

The altar, greeting Dora,
Again a smiling bride;

And now the gloomy evening
Sees Alice pale and worn,
Leaving the house for ever,
To wander out forlorn.

XVIII.

Forlorn-nay, not so. Anguish
Shall do its work at length;

Her soul, passed through the fire,
Shall gain still purer strength.
Somewhere there waits for Alice
An earnest noble part;

And, meanwhile God is with her,—
God, and her own true heart!

THE WIND.

HE wind went forth o'er land and sea,
Loud and free;

Foaming waves leapt up to meet it,

Stately pines bowed down to greet it;
While the wailing sea

And the forest's murmured sigh

Joined the cry

Of the wind that swept o'er land and sea.

The wind that blew upon the sea

Fierce and free,

Cast the bark upon the shore,

Whence it sailed the night before

Full of hope and glee;

And the cry of pain and death

Was but a breath,

Through the wind that roared

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The wind was whispering on the lea

Tenderly;

But the white rose felt it pass,

And the fragile stalks of grass
Shook with fear to see

All her trembling petals shed,
As it fled,

So gently by, the wind upon the lea.

Blow, thou wind, upon the sea
Fierce and free,

And a gentler message send,

Where frail flowers and grasses bend,

On the sunny lea;

For thy bidding still is one,

Be it done

In tenderness or wrath, on land or sea!

EXPECTATION.

HE King's three daughters stood on the

terrace,

The hanging terrace, so broad and green, Which keeps the sea from the marble Palace, There was Princess May, and Princess Alice, And the youngest Princess, Gwendoline.

Sighed Princess May, "Will it last much longer,
Time throbs so slow and my Heart so quick;
And oh, how long is the day in dying;
Weary am I of waiting and sighing,

For Hope deferred makes the spirit sick."

But Princess Gwendoline smiled and kissed her :"Am I not sadder than you, my Sister?

Expecting joy is a happy pain.

The Future's fathomless mine of treasures,
All countless hordes of possible pleasures,
Might bring their store to my feet in vain."

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