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ONCE A WEEK.
[December 3, 1859.
Love kept deciphering his past
Till sleep at last
Drowsed him, but show’d him in his dreams
Beauties in streams,
Whose lips still held the kiss he gave
When he was slave;
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And ears that thrill’d to whisper’d praise;
And cheeks his gaze
Had tinged so ruddy; all slid on,
And quick were gone,
As snowflakes that the spring earth pelt
Gleam bright and melt.
Murmur‘d the lips of that quaint boy,—
“I scatter joy.
I’m not inconstant, save in name;
My sacred flame
Burns ever. Circumstance doth move——
Deathless is Love!
BERNI.
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