I love thee—­oh!  I love thee,
  With fervor, deep and wild,
Thy beauty’s charm most strangely,
  My spirit hath beguiled.

I love thee—­oh!  I love thee,
  The Spring’s first, freshest flower,
Comes not across my spirit,
  With such a holy power.

I love thee—­oh!  I love thee,
  The fibres of my heart
Are closely twined about thee,
  As if by magic art.

I see thee—­oh!  I see thee,
  In the sunbeam, in the bud,
In all that’s fair in nature,
  In all that’s bright and good.

I hear thee—­oh!  I hear thee,
  In the melting music-words,
That swell, at joyous morning,
  From the woodland choir of birds.

I crave thee—­oh!  I crave thee,
  Thou angel sent from God! 
To beautify the pathway,
  Which must by me be trod.

I love thee—­oh!  I love thee! 
  And, dearest, I implore,
That bliss may still await thee,
  On Heaven’s far brighter shore.

ON ——.

A brainless beauty, a would-be coquette,
A brow of marble, but a heart of jet;
An eye that shows no vestige of the deep
And stained thoughts that in her bosom sleep: 
By day a vestal, but by night a bawd;
Her ways a riddle, her whole life a fraud;
At church an angel, but at home a shrew,
Cheating her mother, to her sire untrue;
Vain without talent, without merit proud;
By all who see her, still a fool allow’d;
Without all love, with but the show of truth,
She stares and simpers at the scornful youth;
Or ambling loosely on the village street,
While strangers sneer upon the fool they meet: 
She lives and moves the true epitome
And climax of all d——­mn’d Hypocrisy. 
Here I enshrine her, where all time shall see
Her name preserv’d in deathless infamy.

SERENADE.

Far o’er the landscape green,
  The moonlight like a lake,
Lies; ’tis a lovely scene,
  To bid my lady wake;
    My lady, lady, wake,
    Wake, oh! wake!

The night is rich with smells,
  Like thoughts from heart of love,
Wafted from flower bells,
  On unseen wings above;
    My lady, lady, wake,
    Wake, oh! wake!

The Nightingale, a wo! 
  Within the grove complains!—­
The stars are coming low
  To hear her killing strains! 
    My lady, lady, wake,
    Wake, oh! wake!

O see! my lady, far
  Beyond yon western steeps,
The moon, with one white star,
  In paly parting, weeps: 
    My lady, lady, wake,
    Wake, oh! wake!

Before the envious day,
  Shall gaze upon thy charms;
Come, lady, come away,
  And rest lock’d in these arms! 
    My lady, lady, wake,
    Wake, oh! wake!

Oh lady, see! the moon
  Her silver chariot stops,
(A list’ning to my tune,)
  On yonder green oak-tops! 
    My lady, lady, wake,
    Wake, oh! wake!