The sight leaves his eye as he cries, with a sigh, "Dance light, for my heart it lies under your feet, love!" JOHN FRANCIS WALLER. EDWARD GRAY. Sweet Emma Moreland, of yonder town, "And have you lost your heart?" she said; Sweet Emma Moreland spoke to me: "Ellen Adair she loved me well, Against her father's and mother's will; "Shy she was, and I thought her cold; Thought her proud, and fled over the sea; Filled I was with folly and spite, When Ellen Adair was dying for me. "Cruel, cruel the words I said! Cruelly came they back to-day : 'You're too slight and fickle,' I said, "To trouble the heart of Edward Gray.' SIE HABEN MICH GEQUÄLET. Speak a little, Ellen Adair!" "Then I took a pencil, and wrote "Love may come, and love may go, And fly like a bird, from tree to tree: But I will love no more, no more, Till Ellen Adair come back to me. "Bitterly wept I over the stone: Bitterly weeping I turned away: 105 There lies the body of Ellen Adair! SIE HABEN MICH GEQUÄLET. People have teased and vexed me, They drugged my glass with poison, Some with the love they bore me, But she who has teased and vexed me, And worried me far the most She never hated me, never, And her love I could never boast. From HEINE. TOO LATE. Could ye come back to me, Douglas, Douglas, Never a scornful word should grieve ye, Oh! to call back the days that are not! My eyes were blinded, your words were few; Do you know the truth now up in heaven, Douglas, Douglas, tender and true? I never was worthy of you, Douglas; Now all men beside seem to me like shadows- JANETTE'S HAIR. 107 Stretch out your hand to me, Douglas, Douglas, MRS. CRAIK. JANETTE'S HAIR. "Oh, loosen the snood that you wear, Janette, Let me tangle a hand in your hair-my pet;" For the world to me had no daintier sight Than your brown hair veiling your shoulder white. It was brown with a golden gloss, Janette, It was finer than silk of the floss-my pet; "Twas a beautiful mist falling down to your wrist, 'Twas a thing to be braided, and jeweled, and kissed 'Twas the loveliest hair in the world-my pet. My arm was the arm of a clown, Janette, Your eyes had a swimming glory, Janette, They were gray with that chastened tinge of the sky When the trout leaps quickest to snap the fly, And they matched with your golden hair-my pet. Your lips-but I have no words, Janette- Oh, you tangled my life in your hair, Janette, Thus ever I dream what you were, Janette, With your lips and your eyes and your hair-my pet. In the darkness of desolate years I moan, CHARLES GRAHAM HALPINE. A MATCH. If love were what the rose is, |