This page has been validated.
THE DEPARTED.
327
Oh! mine own heart, where are they—
Visions of thine earlier hour,
When thy young hope's colours were
Like those on the morning flower.
Where's the trusting confidence
Of affection deep and true?
And the spirits sunshine-like,
Which o'er all their gladness threw?—
Gone, gone—they all are gone.
L. E. L.
