hearted,

Turned the door on its golden

hinge.

Now I sing in the court once

more,

I sing and I weep all day, As I kneel by the close-shut door,

For I know what the echoes say.

Yet I sing not the song of old,

Ere I knew whence the echo

came,

Ere I opened the door of gold; But the music sounds just the

same.

Then take warning, and turn away;

Do not ask of that hidden thing,

Do not guess what the echoes say, Or the meaning of what I sing.

HEARTS.

I.

A TRINKET made like a Heart, dear,

Of red gold, bright and fine, Was given to me for a keepsake, Given to me for mine.

If then your future life should need

A strength my Love can only gain

Through suffering, or my heart be freed

Only by sorrow from some stain,

such

take, this Crown of fire for

As none foresee and none con

Love's dear sake.

trol;

September 8, 1860.