But no song, however fair,
In my fancy can compare
With a whispered — 'I love thee,'

Ellen Evelina.

Oft I think against my will,
Ellen Evelina,

Notwithstanding all I see,
Bright and beautiful in thee,
That thou lovest, Oh my belle,
Thy enchanting self too well,
To give love enough to me,
Ellen Evelina.

Thou hast chosen

so have I

Ellen Evelina;

In thy track I'll cease to run,

I will end as I begun;

She whom I would choose for life,

For my love, my friend, my wife, Must have heart—and thou hast none, Ellen Evelina.

LADY JANE.

Он, Lady Jane, dear Lady Jane,

Those beautiful and earnest eyes Have shot their beams through many a brain, And prompted many a world of sighs. No wonder! — stony-hard and cold

Were he, who gazing on their light

Ay, were he eighty winters old -
Felt no pulsation of delight.

But tell us, dearest Lady Jane,

What secret witchery and spell
Hast thou to rule the hearts of men,
That not the hardest can rebel?
The hearts of men? Not theirs alone;
For women do not love thee less;
Thou hast some secret of thine own,
Thou saucy little sorceress!

The blind old beggar on the road,
Fed by thy bounty, loves thee more

For gentle sympathy bestowed,

Than for the tribute from thy store.

The peevish beldame, sour'd by want,
And teased by urchins far and near,
Selects thee for her confidant,

And breathes her sorrows in thine ear.

The kittens on the hearth prefer

Thy soft caress, than ours more sweet; And jealous hound, and snarling cur Frolic with pleasure at thy feet. The parrot swinging to and fro,

That sulks at others talks to thee; And tearful babes forget their woe And cuddle, happy, round thy knee.

In fact, there's something, lady dear,
In thee, and on thee, and about,
A power-a charm- an atmosphere -
A fascination in and out,

That make all creatures, high and low,

Love thee and trust thee. Tell us, then,

The reason why we love thee so —
Thou little fairy, Lady Jane!

What can it be? - for I confess

I know of beauty great as thine ; – Yet if it be not loveliness,

'Tis something in thee more divine. ’Tis not thy wit — or eloquence —

And thou hast both in ample store; 'Tis not thy birth — or wealth—or sense That makes us captive evermore.

LADY JANE.

What is it then? - Thou canst not say

Then let me tell thee, Lady Jane: 'Tis bright good humor, warm as day — 'Tis sympathy for others' pain'Tis heart, and mind, and patience rich'Tis loving-kindness, failing never;These are thy spells, thou potent witch

We can't resist - we're thine for ever!

299

THE HISTORY OF A PAIR OF EYES.

'You-tell the history of mine eyes? Well-some men's fancies are unruly! "Twould take three volumes at the least

Ay-twenty, if you told it truly.'
'No matter: let me try the task,
Though possibly my heart may rue it,
If, gazing on their light meanwhile,
I strive to render justice to it.

'One morn - 'twas twenty Mays ago·

The meadows gleamed with flowery whiteness, When on the world those eye-lids oped,

And showed their inner orbs of brightness;

Two litttle gem-like spheres they were,
That knew no change of day or morrow;

Yet shone 'mid tears, as if to prove

The joy that had been shown 'mid sorrow.

Ere May a second time return'd,

Those little worlds were worlds of graces; They looked upon the earth and sky

And knew the light of loving faces.