Love Everywhere. Love knoweth every form of air, He peeps into the warrior's heart And the serried spears and the many men He'll come to his tent in the weary night And he 'll float to his eye in morning light He hears the sound of the hunter's gun, And sighs in his ear, like a stirring leaf, And flits in his woodland track. The shade of the wood, and the sheen of the river, The cloud and the open sky, He will haunt them all with his subtle quiver, Like the light of your very eye. The fisher hangs over the leaning boat, And ponders the silver sea, For Love is under the surface hid, He heaves the wave like a bosom sweet, Till the bait is gone from the crafty line, He blurs the print of the scholar's book, In the darkest night, and the bright day-light, In every home of human thought, Will Love be lurking nigh. N. P. WILLIS. Remembrance. I shall look back, when on the main, — Back to my native isle, And almost think I hear again Thy voice, and view thy smile. But many days may pass away, Ere I again shall see Amid the young, the fair, the gay, One who resembles thee. Yet when the pensive thought shall dwell On some ideal maid, Whom fancy's pencil pictured well, And touched with softest shade, The imaged form I shall survey, BOWLES. |