Page:New Peterson magazine 1859 Vol. XXXV.pdf/222



BELL SMITH

AND

I

I.—SONG—MAGGIE

DAWSON.

209

petty cares, from which Jane had known no respite for many a weary week.

The fresh air seemed to impart a glow to her cheek, and a light sparkled in her eye that made her seem another creature.

When they returned home, before getting out of the carriage, the doctor said,

“l wanted to tell you this a long time ago, Jane, but I knew she could not spare you; but my house is sadly in need of its mistress, and you will not make me wait long.”

“Carrie,” said Harry, about a year after this, “guess where I dined today. But you never will. With Dr. Gordon and his wife; and Jenny is actually beautiful. Happiness, and foreign travel, have so much improved her, and their home is so charming, that I have made up my mind to go and get married myself."

BELL

SMITH

AND

I!

BY W. S. GAFFNEY. How oft. in childhood’s halcyon days. Ere reason broke life's fairy spell, (for sloping meads. by babbling brooks, Or in the ﬂower-laden dell— We sauntered forth, in merry glee, 'Neath Summer’s sun or twilight’s sky, With tiny feet and cheerful hearts In conﬁdence—Bell Smith and I!

I seem to see the willow tree Where oft our weary feet did rest; The orchard and the apple stump, Where erst I found the blue-bird’s nest: And there, beyond the grassy lawn, Where waved the tall and graceful rye, And bushes cast a shade at noon, We gathered berries—Bell and I.

She was a sweet and charming lass! The loveliest at home or school; And for her dear and precious sake I know I’ve often played the fool! Yet ohl the bright ecstatic bliss 01’ days which manhood ne‘er can buy: Would we might live them o’er again, As once we did—Bell Smith and I!

But ah! the halcyon days of youth Nor time nor wishes can recall; Their memories rise up to view But for a moment—that is all! Full many a harvest moon hath passed Full many a Winter’s blast gone by— Since hand-in-hand, and young in heart, We tripped the groves—Bell Smith and I.

The village grounds, so lovely once, Now boast the name of Prospect-Head: And all their sweet simplicity Is shadowed o’er with Mammon's tread: The red school-house now stands no more The little rivulet hard by; Nor doth the tutor’s voice resound Where wisdom smiled on Bell and I!

Young loves have grown estranged since then, And fate hath woven many a spell; The fresh, the buoyant hearts of yore, Where are they now—ah! who can tell? Some tread, perhaps, a foreign soil. While others in the church-yard lie; And two I hope, though parted here, Will meet above—Bell Smith and 1!

SONG.—MAGGIE DAWSON. BY A NEW

CONTRIBUTOR. SURROUNDED by pride, by false glitter and show, How oft in the city I silently pine For the haunts of my youth, that I left long ago When a careless content, with its pleasures were mine. Untrammeled by wealth, nuacquainted with fear, My heart it beat light, for I worshiped alone, The sweet, winning smile of my lassie so dear, When I wooed Maggie Dawson, and thought her my own.

At eve, my dear Maggie, how often have I Wandered out through the vine-tangled forest with thee, While the loud, merry laugh that resoundcd on high, Bespoke of two hearts that were happy and free. We talked not of love—but our love was revealed B! a mystical something unconsciously shown. What are words? “’Tis by those that our thoughts are concealed,” And without them I felt as if Maggie‘s my own. We talked net of love—yet the sensitive glow Often told of the truth we half trembled to speak :— In the volume of life, every thought that we know Is writ on the page of the soul-telling cheek. And when. my dear Maggie, I bade you adieu, If the big swelling tear ’neath thine eyelid was shown; Shall I slight the ai'fection displayed then by you? No! fain would I make you forever my own. Ye jades of the city, though comely and fair, Who sport in your silks and your jewels so ﬁne, Let you put on each grace, and each gay daunting slr, Yet in spite of your arts Maggie Dawson is mine. When once from this scene of dull plodding and strife, I seek the old haunts which my childhood has known, Then, Mﬂggivl dear Maggie! I'll make thee my wife, And the girl of my heart be forever my own.