We _feel_, and _see_, and therefore _know_,--the morn
With blush of youth ne'er left us till it brought
Promise of full-grown day. "The man is blind!"




DISAPPOINTMENT.


The light has left the hill-side. Yesterday
These skies shewed blue against the dusky trees,
The leaves' soft murmur in the evening breeze
Was music, and the waves danced in the bay.
Then was my heart, as ever, far away
With you,--and I could see you as one sees
A mirrored face,--and happiness and ease
And hope were mine, in spite of long delay.

After these months of waiting, this is all!
Hope, dead, lies coffined, shrouded in despair,
With all the blessings of the outer air
Forgot, 'neath the black covering of a pall.
Only the darkening of the woodland ways,
A heart's low moaning over wasted days.




A SHADOW.