’Twas in my boyhood’s happy days,
  I loved a blue-eyed maid;
The light of heaven o’er that young cheek,
  In changeful feeling stray’d!

I loved her with a love as true,
  As ever dwelt on earth;
Oh sure my worship was too deep,
  Even at that shrine of worth.

She loved me not, that knowledge fell,
  Upon me like a blight;
Ah me!  I am too fondly weak? 
  Is this a teardrop bright?

You asked why I am lonely now,
  And I the tale have told: 
And I shall yet be lonely, till
  The grave my heart shall hold.

OLD HOMESTEAD.

Old homestead! old homestead! what feelings arise! 
As now the old homestead greets kindly our eyes;
Old homestead, where oft we were merry or sad;
Each day as it fled, still some witchery had.

The homestead! how dear is its old, friendly look,
Its dun rolling hills, and its slow running brook;
Its time-worn, old gables, and cornice so plain,
Its roof that grew mossy from shadow and rain.

Old homestead! some dwelt with us, loved with us here;
Some smiled at our smile, and they wept at our tear: 
Of those some have gone to a far distant land;
And some—­where yon cedars like pale mourners stand.

Oh! memories most thrilling, most holy, most dear,
Still cluster around thee, old homestead, fore’er;
Thou hast a deep magic that never can die,
’Till ’neath the green valley, we endlessly lie.

LOVE SONG.

I love thee, oh!  I love thee,
  As the sweet bee loves the flower,
As the swallow loves the summer,
  As the humming bird the bower;
As the petrel loves the ocean,
  As the nightingale the night;
I love, I love thee, dearest! 
  Thou being good and bright.

I love thee, oh!  I love thee,
  There’s nothing on this earth,
Can feel a deeper fondness,
  A flame of purer worth;
The eagle loves its offspring,
  Most faithful is the dove;
But thou! thy smallest ringlet,
  Has more from me than love.

SUSIE.

A gentle maid, a dove-like soul,
  An eye that knows no ill;
I met her from her rural walk,
  Upon yon grassy hill.

Her apron filled with early flowers,
  And some were lightly bound
Into a wreath that sweetly lay
  Her snowy temples round.

And as I met her on that hill,
  At twilight’s magic hour,
My spirit felt her loveliness
  And own’d her magic power.

And since our meeting on that hill,
  I still have fondly thought,
Of what a store of pleasant dreams,
  That eve to me hath brought.

LINES ON PARTING WITH ——.

Since Fate’s tyrannical decree,
Sweet friend, dissevers you and me,
Now memory shall vanquish fate,
And yield the bliss we knew so late.