LILLY LANE.

Come to my calling,
  Lilly Lane,
Like music falling,
  Come again.

The earth is dreary,
  Sorrow’s reign,
My thoughts are weary,
  Come again.

The flowers upspringing,
  Bring me pain,
My thoughts are winging
  To thee again.

Come to my sorrow,
  Come again,
Give night a morrow,
  Yet again.

Oh! birds are singing
  Many a strain,
The woodlands ringing,
  Come again.

Yet I am weeping,
  E’er with pain,
Grief’s vigil keeping,
  Come again.

The dawn gleams brightly
  O’er the plain,
The airs come lightly
  O’er the main.

They ne’er shall wake thee,
  Lilly Lane,
All things forsake thee,
  Lilly Lane.

I’ll not bereave thee
  Lilly Lane! 
I’ll never leave thee,
  Lilly Lane.

On thy grave I’ll mutter
  “Lilly Lane!”
With a frantic, dove-like flutter,
  “Lilly Lane!”

Around thy tomb I’ll hover,
  Near the main,
Like a bleeding dying plover,
  “Lilly Lane!”

A SONG OF THE OLDEN TIME.

To-day my gay and happy heart,
  Was lost in pleasant dreaming;
And I had won a loving part
  In all the by-gone’s seeming.

I saw that most renowned maid,
  Before her father falling,
Those savage hearts, within the shade
  Of antique trees, appalling.

I saw the deep and gushing love,
  That fearful moment started,
That murmur’d like a turtle dove,
  To cheating hope departed.

I saw the kind and gentle deeds,
  That gemm’d her after being
That little camp, from sorest needs,
  And frequent slaughter, freeing.

I thought that she was kindly sent,
  In gracious God’s foreknowing,
To save from fatal detriment,
  This infant nation growing.

I saw the savage maiden’s form
  With Culture’s graces, glowing;
In virgin beauty, bright and warm,
  Like vernal roses blowing.

I saw her sweetly, deeply smile
  On Rolfe beside her sitting,
As o’er the neighboring stream the while
  The shades of eve were flitting.

I saw her wed in love beneath
  The forest’s lofty awning;
While white and dusk maids bring a wreath,
  Like night commixt with morning.

I saw the strange and novel fame,
  She left to song and story,
Which down the future’s track of flame,
  Beams forth with deathless glory.

FAREWELL TO ALBEMARLE.

Farewell, ye verdant hills and vales,
  Farewell thou rolling river,
Whose waves flow onward to the sea,
  Returning, never, never.

From all thy scenes, I might have gone,
  I might in joy have parted,
But since my love remaineth here,
  I wander broken-hearted.