Thoughtful, with tremblings and fears,
She planted a seed in the garden,
And watered the place with her tears--
And watched it with tremblings and fears.

The winds and the rains beat upon it,
The lightnings flashed o'er it in glee;
But she sleeps 'neath the tree of her planting--
A beautiful blossoming tree.




THE GHOSTS IN THE HEART.

They came in the hush of the midnight,
In the glare of the noonday start
Out from the graves we made them--
The graves we made in the heart.

There is love with its fickle fancies;
Its grave was so wide and deep,
And we heaped the mound with oblivion,
But the soul of love could not sleep.

And hate! ah, we buried it deeper
Than all the rest of the train;
But one word through memory flashing,
And its ghost comes back again.