The air's turned gall!
My soul's in chase, my body chafes to wander--
My dagger's filed--
Oh! this chill wind may change, and o'er the mountain
May drive me wild!"

HENRY L. WILLIAMS.



GUITAR SONG.

_("Comment, disaient-ils.")_

[XXIII., July 18, 1838.]


How shall we flee sorrow--flee sorrow? said he.
How, how! How shall we flee sorrow--flee sorrow? said he.
How--how--how? answered she.

How shall we see pleasure--see pleasure? said he.
How, how! How shall we see pleasure--see pleasure? said he.
Dream--dream--dream! answered she.

How shall we be happy--be happy? said he.
How, how! How shall we be happy--be happy? said he.
Love--love--love! whispered she.

EVELYN JERROLD