Page:New Peterson magazine 1859 Vol. XXXV.pdf/209

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CURSE

HIM NOT.

young man impressed a tender kiss on the fair, pale forehead, upon which the moonbeams rested like a halo, giving a saintly glory to the face yet suffused with tears.

The years that followed that betrothal were years of quiet joy and peace.

If Agnes, sometimes in the midst of outward blessings, found her old waywardness returning, the steadfastness of her husband brought her back to serenity again, while she lit up with beauty the gravity of his nature, as the sunbeams do the strength and sternness of the hills.

CURSE

HIM NOT.

BY JENIY A. STONE. Yes, I know this world of beauty Is a weary world to me; Life has lost its early brightness, Only gloom mine eyes can see; Joy has tied our humble cot. He is false—yet curse him not.

Had I been of haughtier nature, I might still have kept his heart, For he said I was too wayward

I have worshiped him so wildly, Oh, I cannot waken now; Love and hope are still entwining Garlands for my 'wiidercd brow; Music notes are sounding free O’er the land and o'er the sea. I was but a child in feeling, And I gave him all my heart; Oh, I thought that I wﬁ dreaming When he told me we must part. Time has Mod—too “on I “'0' Dream. and mo “gather "0"

In his life to bear a part;

And I know while weeping wild That he always called me “child.”

Yes, I know that I am dying: Ere the Spring tide’s balmy breath Comes to bless the world with beauty, Cold will be my heart in death; Shadows hover o‘er my brow, What has earth to tempt me now? cum him not, for oh! ,6, but" That this form should pass away, That my memory should be blotted From the world so bright and gay; I have loved—my heart is broken, Fatal words those lips have spoken.

I was wont to bend above him Till my ringlets swept his brow, He was proud, and I was child-like, Oh, I cannot blame him now; More than human, half divine, How could love like his be mine? Once I dreamed he was an angel From the beware of light above, And I trembled as he told me Of his deep and changoless love. Ah! how strangely visions fade, Now in dust my hopes are laid.

That strong arm is round me thrown; Then I weep to think no more Love hall glad me as of yore

Lay me where the fragrant blossoms Will be scattered o'er my bed, Where the lilies and the roses Will be clustered round my head; 0h, ’twas there I used to meet him, Springing o'er the ﬂowers to greet him. Now my dream has surely faded, And a weight is in my breast, Lay me ’m-ath the mossy covering, For my weary heart must rest; Let him come to that sweet spot, Let him come, but curse him not.

Often in the early twilight, As I sit and muse alone, With fond memory's gentle magic,

“HOPE

LAUGHS BY

HELIX

0!!! Hope laughs forth to-nlght, mother, And gleefulness is here With eyes so sparkling. bright, mother, To drive away old Care. There's no more grief within our hearts. Our songs are light and gay, And full of gushing melody, Now Sorrow’s gone away. , The earth around looks glad, mother, And clear and bright the sky; Ohl why should we be sad, mother, 0r wherefore should we sight

FORTH AUGUSTA

If/l’ dv/NvINJ MVI I I I

TO—NIGHT."

BROWNS.

Ohl wherefore should earth‘s sorrows move,

Or why should shadows full, Since lieaven hangs so bright above, And God is utter all? Then let our hearts be light, mother, Let lfope our bosoms cheer, We'll all be glad to-night. mother, And wipe away the tear. We'll chant in gushing melodies The songs we used to love, And tune our harps to sing the praise Of Him who rules above.