Her hand in mine—­“Oh! be thou mine,
  Nor scorn my pleading sigh.” 
“Yes”—­still I cried, “be thou my bride,
  My own, until we die!”

Now as that tide doth onward glide
  To reach the glittering sea,
With sparkling glow, our souls will flow,
  To bright eternity.

DISAPPOINTMENT.

Last eve ere sleep had closed mine eyes,
  To me there came a dream,
That when the saffron morn should rise
  O’er lovely hill and stream;
I should behold a vision move
  By yonder crystal spring—­
A vision of an earthly dove,
  With pure and blessed wing.

I thought the days of old romance,
  Would now return to earth;
And, in that soft and placid trance,
  So sweet—­yet not like mirth—­
I saw the Dryads gently gliding
  Through shadowy groves of myrtle—­
And Nereides their glances hiding,
  And Venus with her turtle.

Alas! our brightest dreams deceive! 
  The morning rises, bright and sweet,
And every thing in nature waits
  Thy fairy face and form to greet;
But they, alas! will wait in vain,
  As I, with aching heart,
Whilst wrapt in other joy or pain,
  In other scenes, thou art.

Thus ever from our path below,
  Some vision lovelier far,
Than Eden’s bird, or glittering gem,
  Or beam of Beauty’s star—­
Glides swiftly by—­and we are left
  To mourn the fleeting bliss,
That mocks us, as we sadly thread,
  So dark a scene as this.

THE DREAM OF LOVE.

I dreamed last night, my lady-love,
  A dear, delicious dream;
’Twas not in bower or blooming grove,
  Nor by the sylvan stream.

’Twas in thy father’s noble hall,
  In dreams I saw thee, lady love! 
Yet ’twas no gorgeous festival,
  No flowers beneath—­no lights above.

It was a sacred, simple scene,
  Thy smiling sisters gathered round,
With kindly air, and gentle mien,
  And spoke—­a magic, home-born sound!

Then thou and I, sweet lady-love! 
  Roved out amid the garden green,
Whilst Day and Night together strove,
  Along the soft, romantic scene.

And then I praised the charming view—­
  The lofty peaks and rosiate skies—­
The vallies, in their vernal hue—­
  The sky’s still brightening, crimson dyes.

And oh!  I saw thy angel smile,
  It smiled its lovelight all on me! 
My heart was heaving high the while,
  And still my eyes saw nought but thee.

I took thy trembling hand in mine,
  Then clasped thee to my happy breast,
And then those honeylips of thine
  My forehead with their kisses blest.

Last night I dreamed, sweet lady-love! 
  This dear, delicious dream;
Oh! could I waking pleasures prove
  So sweet as those that seem.