Some are quickened by a tear,
Some by hopes and pleasures dead;
Take them, Bright Eyes, without fear,
God is overhead.




_THE LOVERS._


With silken tresses floating free,
A dark-eyed maiden wanders
Alone beside the murmuring sea,
And of her lover ponders.

The fisher boats at anchor ride,
The summer moon is waking;
Its beams of silver on the tide
In rippling flakes are breaking.

The golden sands in murmurs speak,
Her dainty foot that presses,
The salt sea wind upon her cheek
Is lavish of caresses.

Afar upon a winding stream
A youth is softly rowing;
Above his head the star-worlds gleam,
And bright the moon is glowing.