New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, 1846-07-16


have seen wha; men call fairest-
Each may think his own the rarest-
Bat nv soul conceived her nearest
Toe embodiment of love:
She 10 there still-iook upon her.
For decay hath not yet won her
And though Deaths damp haod % on her,
Does she not your palses move
Saw You Ger a check 80 tebder1
Or q hand 30 white and slender I
Ora waist that would eugeDder
Such a yearniDy 70 csress 7
Saw you eye SO liquid ever7
Or lip 40 luring7 Never
'Twould have made your heartstrings' quivt
Bat In life that lip 10 preas.
And she loved me-she had sworn tt
She had won my heart aud worn it
Oh! the anguish that hath torn it,
They alone can know, who part
With the one aud only being.
Who, by Natures kind decreeing,
Hath been blended with their being
And entwined around their heart
She had neither father-mother-
Without sister-witbeut brother
She aud were TO each other
Al the World and all ls joy:
From our hearts each day united.
By our lips fresh vows were pligdteo-
And oor souls with love bepishlsd,
Never dreami Of its alloy.
Oft at midnight from my sleeping
have woke, aud found her wsepins-
And her jealous vigil Keeping
Keeping DER mo in my sleep!
For her love was ever Jealous
Never cold and barely Jealous
For the loss Of such love tell Us,
10 IL strange that now / weePa
Oh! then tell me not that sorrow
Such az mine can ever borrow
Consolation from the morrow
Morrow knows no Joy FOR me:
For each day brings soU q fresh token
That 10 vain are kind .ords spoken
To the heart that ha, been broken
:. Ever broken lust it be
nd know us vain and folly
Most profane. and moot unboly
Thus 70 mourn since fate hath lowly-
Lowly laid her lovely form;
Yet far vatner were the notion,
That life time Of devotion,
Gould allay the wild emotion.
Burning now my bosom warm
Mol cannot cease to mourn her
Thoueb Ills God own hand hath torn her.
And his angel that hath borne her
To thai home where angels dwell
Al Il gaze, remembrance reading
In her dark eyes painful pleading,
Fresh nv cart begins its bleeding
And lie seems n hopeless hell
Oh! then tell me not that sorrow
Such as mine can ever borrow
Consolation from the morrow
Morrow knows no JOY for me-
For each day brings some fresh token,
That In vain are kind words spoken
To the heart that has been broken
Ever broken must 1t be-
And they tell me am lonely
To the world l seem 80 only
But never can be lonely
For by day-iu dreams By night
THERE'S love.born spirit near me
And Il seems to see and hear me
While dark eye smiles TO cheer me
With It's pure and holy light
In the sunbeam mid day brillisnce,
Round me still It's Kind surveillance
Lurlng woos to sweetest dalliance
Az when she was by my side!
And when light is closing 'er me,
IN the dsrhling forms before me.
Like an angel watching DER me
Seems my own sweet spirit bride.
In the midnight deep and sombre-
In my lone and voceless chamber,
Pouring bliss into my slumber,
Dor my bosom dark eyes beaml
IT'LL my sense is drunk-yet aching
With thirst that knows no slaking-
And my siddy soul, awskipg.
Half denies il was dream!
Gould a love 90 well united
For our very souls were plighied-
Gould such love by death be blishted
Bnshted never more to boom7
0, give me hope that's sweeicrl
Tell me-tel me | shall meet her,
And 18th burning kisses greet her
Il n land beyond The tomb
Yes amidst my desoa,ion--
It's not faney's false creation
That a strange sweet consolation
Heals my bleeding. broken heart
And IL tells nue., twill be given
For our hearts thus rudely riven,
To unite sgain in Heaven.
Never, nerer more TO part!
Nss York ci:y, May l, 1886 MArNS RxID