TO THEA.

"Her love was registered in Heaven."

By day, by night, in weal or wo,
Where'er on earth my lot may be ;
'Neath orient skies-midst polar snow,

I'll still love thee.

If it be mine to dwell afar

In distant lands beyond the sea,

Where savages untutored are,

I'll still love thee.

Or in my home near thee to dwell,

A simple child of minstrelsy,

And win the world with song's sweet spell

I'll still love thee.

If ever in the festal throng

I go, midst sounds of revelry,

And Beauty's smile, and dance, and song,

I'll still love thee.

Or if the waves of sorrow roll

Around me wild, tempestuously,

And overwhelm at last my soul,

I'll still love thee.

And when upon the couch of death,

And time is closing unto me,

My latest prayer-my latest breath

I'll breathe for thee.

TO MARY.

ENRICHED a mind,

Where'er we find,

With knowledge, virtue pure;

But when we see,

Maid, as in thee,

These truly all combine,

We feel Love's thrill

Our bosoms fill,

And bow at Beauty's shrine.

I FEEL ALONE.

"The light of happiness is in the heart."

I GO where Beauty's cheek is smiling,
Around the social hearth,

And song and music are beguiling
Fond hearts in gentle mirth,

And feel alone.

I walk along the crowded street

Amidst the glittering throng,

And pleasant smiles and greetings meet From those who've loved me long,

And feel alone.

Oft muse along the water's side,

Where buoyant vessels go

Like living things adown the tide,

And skiffs dart to and fro,

And feel alone.