to be the results of such rashness, and then

[Illustration: "THE PEACE OF THE VALET IS FLED."]

* * * * *


SONGS FOR THE SENTIMENTAL. -- NO. 6.

Thou hast humbled the proud,
For my spirit hath bow'd
More humbly to thee than it e'er bow'd before;
But thy pow'r is past,
Thou hast triumph'd thy last,
And the heart you enslaved beats in freedom once more!
I have treasured the flow'r
You wore but an hour,
And knelt by the mound where together we've sat;
But thy-folly and pride
I now only deride--
So, fair Isabel, take your change out of that!

That I loved, and how well,
It were madness to tell
To one who hath mock'd at my madd'ning despair.
Like the white wreath of snow
On the Alps' rugged brow,
Isabel, I have proved thee as cold as thou'rt fair!
'Twas thy boast that I sued,
That you scorn'd as I woo'd--