In vain I tried to banish from my crushed and bleeding heart The image it had cherished long as of itself a part; My will was weak, for when I came to breathe a sad good-by, I could not, could not smother on my lips the bursting sigh. None knew the wild, deep anguish, the torturing pangs of grief, That closed the fount of feeling and refused a tear's relief. Thou hast often wondered, sister, why mine eye has lost its light, Why I've spoken of existence as a gloomy, starless night; Thou hast sat for days together, and, in accents low, hast told How thy Clarence soon will hasten from the distant land of gold. Whene'er his name was mentioned, I have felt a strange, wild thrill; But I've learned long since, my sister, to suffer and be still. Nay, weep not; for, believe me, ere awakes yon setting sun Earth's struggles will be over, and life's conflicts will be done; My disembodied spirit upon wings of love will rise To roam with shining seraphs through the realms of Paradise. My soul is only waiting till the silken cord is riven, To burst its earthly fetters and soar away to Heaven. Draw nearer to me, sister, on my bosom bow thy head, And take my fervent blessing ere I'm numbered with the dead; And Clarence, he must never know the words I've breathed to thee, As a loving sister only let him learn to think of me. Tell him I longed to see him, but could not wait his time, For the angels came to waft me to a never-changing clime. Thou wilt not forget me, sister, though long the parting seems, Yet, oh, believe me, often will I come to thee in dreams; And, if I gain permission of the true, unchanging Friend, I will be thy guardian angel till He calls thee to ascend. Then, as here on earth we've wandered, through fields of light we'll rove, With our spirits joined together by the silken cord of love. THE SCHOTTISCH PARTNER. BY MOTTE HALL. OH, I danced with him the schottisch! 'Twas the first time that we met; He was such a dashing creature, With orbs as black as jet. And he wore a lovely diamond; How it flashed into my eyes! As he drew me closely to him I saw its wondrous size. Oh, at ball, and rout, and party, I was his schottisch belle; He said I danced so charmingly, And knew the step so well. And we grew so very loving, As we stood upon the floor, That people said the schottisch step Would lead to Hymen's door. But, though I schottisched every night, I reached not Hymen's dwelling; The god must live a long way off, But where, there is no telling. And, only think, one festal night, The ungrateful, wicked Harry! I heard my schottisch partner say— "She'll do—but not to marry.