FIDELITY IN DOUBT.

COME, lady, to my song incline,
The last that shall assail thine ear.

None other cares my strains to hear,

And scarce thou feign'st thyself therewith de

lighted!

Nor know I well if I am loved or slighted;
But this I know, thou radiant one and sweet,
That, loved or spurned, I die before thy feet!
Yea, I will yield this life of mine
In every deed, if cause appear,
Without another boon to cheer.

Honor it is to be by thee incited

To any deed; and I, when most benighted
By doubt, remind me that times change and fleet,
And brave men still do their occasion meet.

From the French of GUIRAUD LEROUX.
Translation of HARRIET WATERS PRESTON.

FAITH.

BETTER trust all and be deceived,

And weep that trust and that deceiving,
Than doubt one heart that, if believed,
Had blessed one's life with true believing.

O, in this mocking world too fast.

The doubting fiend o'ertakes our youth;
Better be cheated to the last

Than lose the blessed hope of truth.

FRANCES ANNE KEMBLE-BUTLER.

II.

PARTING AND ABSENCE.

PARTING.

IF thou dost bid thy friend farewell,
But for one night though that farewell may be,
Press thou his hand in thine.

How canst thou tell how far from thee

Fate or caprice may lead his steps ere that to-morrow comes?

Men have been known to lightly turn the corner of

a street,

And days have grown to months, and months to lagging years,

Ere they have looked in loving eyes again.
Parting, at best, is underlaid

With tears and pain.

Therefore, lest sudden death should come between, Or time, or distance, clasp with pressure firm The hand of him who goeth forth;

Unseen, Fate goeth too.

Yes, find thou always time to say some earnest

word

Between the idle talk,

Lest with thee henceforth,

Night and day, regret should walk.

COVENTRY PATMORE.

TO LUCASTA.

ON GOING TO THE WARS.

TELL me not, sweet, I am unkinde,
That from the nunnerie

Of thy chaste breast and quiet minde,
To warre and armes I flee.

True, a new mistresse now I chase.-
The first foe in the field;

And with a stronger faith imbrace
A sword, a horse, a shield.

Yet this inconstancy is such
As you, too, shall adore;

I could not love thee, deare, so much,
Loved I not honour more.

RICHARD LOVELACE.

GOOD-BYE.

"FAREWELL! farewell!" is often heard
From the lips of those who part:
"T is a whispered tone, 't is a gentle word,
But it springs not from the heart.
It may serve for the lover's closing lay,
To be sung 'neath a summer sky;

But give to me the lips that say
The honest words, "Good-bye!"

"Adieu! adieu!" may greet the ear,
In the guise of courtly speech:
But when we leave the kind and dear,

"T is not what the soul would teach. Whene'er we grasp the hands of those We would have forever nigh,

The flame of Friendship bursts and glows
In the warm, frank words, "Good-bye."

The mother, sending forth her child
To meet with cares and strife,

Breathes through her tears her doubts and fears
For the loved one's future life.

No cold" adieu," no "farewell," lives
Within her choking sigh,

But the deepest sob of anguish gives,
"God bless thee, boy! Good-bye!"

Go, watch the pale and dying one,

When the glance hast lost its beam; When the brow is cold as the marble stone, And the world a passing dream;

And the latest pressure of the hand,

The look of the closing eye,

Yield what the heart must understand,

A long, a last Good-bye.

ANONYMOUS.

AE FOND KISS BEFORE WE PART.

AE fond kiss, and then we sever;

Ae fareweel, alas, forever!

Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee;
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.

Who shall say that fortune grieves him,
While the star of hope she leaves him?
Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me;
Dark despair around benights me.

I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy—
Naething could resist my Nancy:
But to see her was to love her,
Love but her, and love forever.
Had we never loved sae kindly,
Had we never loved sae blindly,
Never met-or never parted,

We had ne'er been broken-hearted.

Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest!
Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest!
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure!
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae fareweel, alas, forever!

Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee!

ROBERT BURNS.

O, MY LUVE'S LIKE A RED, RED
ROSE.

O, MY Luve's like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June:
O, my Luve 's like the melodie

That's sweetly played in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I: