Boon's Lick times. [volume] (Fayette, Mo.) 1840-1848, 1843-03-11
Words to my lips to night have come
That have for years been sealed and dumb.

With thy departing voice forget
Its low, deep tone, and seal again
Ny feelings from the light of day
To be tomorrow only gay!
But days will pass, and nights will creep,
And shall hear that voice Of sadness
With dreams, as now, untouched by sleep,
And spirits out Of tune with gladness;
A nd time must wear and lame spur on,
Before that victory is re-won!
And so FAREWELL would not be
Forgotten by the only heart
To which my own breathes calm and free.
And ret US not as strangers part
And we shall meet again, perhaps,
More gay than we're parting now;
For time has, in it's brieest lapse,
A something which cheers up the brew,
And makes the spirits calm and bright
And now to my sad dreams! Good night!
"What precious hypocrite you were for
the merres, dog in Flnrencer' exclaimed
Bob, as he laid the book open on its back
after reading these lines. you feel that
way credat JudeuS! But there are some
other poetca lies here-wha, do you mean
by I'VE met but yesterday, and we part to-
morrow when / know you dangIed after
that widow whole season at the Baths?"
"Why," said Smith, with one OF his old
laughs, "there was supplement TO such an
on pouring, of course. The reply to my
verses, was an invitation to JOIN their party
the mex morning IN pilgrimage to Vallom-
brosa, and once attached TO that lady's SUITE,
ga pour toujours! or as long as she chose to
keep you. Turn to the next page. Be-
fore coming to the verses OF my more sober
days, you may like To read one mo -four
lsh like the last. Those were addressed to
the same belle dune. and under c"ntinu
ance OF the same haIlucination."
Bob gravel read:-
My hearts a weary one night,
Dear Mary, thinking upon thee
; know not if my brain is right,
But every thing looks dark to me!
Iparted from thy side but now,
| listened to thy mournfu tone,
! gazed by starligh on thy brow,
And we were there unseen-alone-
Yet proud as | should be, and blessed,
cannot set my heart at rest!
Thou lov'st me. Thanks, oh, God. for this!
If should never sleep again
= If hope is all a mock OF bliss
4 shall now have lived in vaIn
| | care not that my eyes aching
With this dull fever in my lids
/ care not that my heart lie breaking
i For happiness that Fate torbds-
The one sweet word that thou has spoken,
y The one sweet look met and blessed,
i Would cheer me il nv heart were broken-
! know that have pressed thy fingers
! Upo my warm lips uniorbd---
', know that in thy memory fingers
; thought of me, like treasure hid
i Though to my breast may not press thee,
Though may never call thee min,
know-and, God, therefore bless thee!-
/ No other fills that heart of thine!
And this shall light my Swallowed track!
II take my words OF sadness back
"What had that flirting widow to do with
the gentle name OF MARY T. exclaimed Bob,
after laughing very heartily at the polnt
, blank take-ln confessed III these very solemn
verses. "Enou n oi love melancholy, how
, ever, my dear Smith! Let's have look
now at the poetIcal side OF care and trouble.
What do you call il?
THE INVOLUNTARY PRAYER OF HAPPINESS.
have enough, oh, God! NJ, heart, tonight,
Runs with the fulness of content;
And as | look the fragrant stars,
And from The beauty of the night take in
Ny priceless portion-yet myself no more
Than in the unlye rse a grain OF sand
feel His glor, who could make world,
Yet, in the lost depths of the wilderness,
: Leave not flower imperfect!
Rich, though poor!
y My low roofsd cottsge is, tins hour, Heaven!
Music is in it-snd the song she sings.
That sweet voiced wife OF mine arrests the ear
OF my young child, awake upon her knee;
And, with his calm eye on his masters sce,
My noble hound lies cOuchant; and all here
All in this little home, yet boundiess Heaven
Are, in such love as have power to give,
Blessed to overfiowing
Thou, who ook'si
Upon my trimming heart, this tranquil eve,
knowest its tuness, as Thou dost the dew
Sent TO the hidden violet by hee!
And, as that flow er from Its unseen abode,
Sends its sweet breath up duly TO the sky,
Changing It's gift TO ineense-so, oh, God
May the sweet drops that to my humble cup
Find their far way from Heaven, send back, II
Fragrance at thy throne welcome! [praysr,
Bob paused moment alter reading thes,
lines.
They seem in earnest" said he, sand
will sooner believe you were happy whel
you wrote these, Than that YOU we're Sac
WHEN you Wrole the others. But one thin,
remark" added Bob, "lhe devout eein,
in these lines written when you are hap
pier; ior II is commonly thought that trlhu
lation and sadness give the first Iellglou
tlnge to the imagination. Yours is but tn
happiness oil Christian Resignation, ate
ALL"
son The contrary" said Smith, " nothing
makes me so wicked as care and trouble.
always had, from childhood, IA disp' sitlon l.
tall down on my knees and thank God 70
every thing which made me happy, Will
SORROWS OF all descriptions stir my ar
tagonism, and make me feel rather ike
lDpyll han a Christian -