(PHOEBE CARY.) ¹ Copyright, Houghton, Mifflin & Co. DYING, still slowly dying, As the hours of night rode by, She had lain since the light of sunset Was red on the evening sky; Till after the middle watches, As we softly near her trod, When her soul from its prison fetters Was loosed by the hand of God. One moment her pale lips trembled With the triumph she might not tell, As the sight of the life immortal On her spirit’s vision fell; Then the look of rapture faded, And the beautiful smile was faint, As that in some convent picture, On the face of a dying saint. And we felt in the lonesome midnight, As we sat by the silent dead, What a light on the path going downward The feet of the righteous shed; When we thought how with faith unshrinking She came to the Jordan’s tide, And taking the hand of the Saviour, Went up on the heavenly side. * * * * * MEMORIES.¹ (PHOEBE CARY.) “_She loved me, but she left me._” ¹ Copyright, Houghton, Mifflin & Co. MEMORIES on memories! to my soul again There come such dreams of vanished love and bliss That my wrung heart, though long inured to pain, Sinks with the fulness of its wretchedness: Thou, dearer far than all the world beside! Thou, who didst listen to my love’s first vow―― Once I had fondly hoped to call thee bride: Is the dream over? comes that awakening now? And is this hour of wretchedness and tears The only guerdon for my wasted years? And I did love thee――when by stealth we met In the sweet evenings of that summer time, Whose pleasant memory lingers with me yet, As the remembrance of a better clime Might haunt a fallen angel. And oh, thou―― Thou who didst turn away and seek to bind Thy heart from breaking――thou hast felt ere now A heart like thine o’ermastereth the mind: Affection’s power is stronger than thy will―― Ah, thou didst love me, and thou lovest me still. My heart could never yet be taught to move With the calm even pulses that it should: Turning away from those that it should love, And loving whom it should not, it hath wooed Beauty forbidden――I may not forget; And thou, oh thou canst never cease to feel; But time, which hath not changed affection yet, Hath taught at least one lesson――to conceal; So none but thou, who see my smiles, shall know The silent bleeding of the heart below. * * * * * “EQUAL TO EITHER FORTUNE.”¹ (PHOEBE CARY.) ¹ Copyright, Houghton, Mifflin & Co.