The secret _of being loved_ is _in being_ lovely, and the secret _of being_ lovely, is _in being_ unselfish. 1185 A lover never sees the faults of the one he loves till the enchantment is over. 1186 THE TRAGEDY OF FICKLE LOVE. He came too late! Neglect had tried Her constancy too long; Her love had yielded to her pride And the deep sense of wrong. She scorned the offering of a heart Which lingered on its way, Till it could no delight impart, Nor spread one cheering ray. He came too late! At once he felt That all his power was o'er; Indifference in her calm smile dwelt-- She thought of him no more. Anger and grief had passed away, Her heart and thoughts were free; She met him, and her words were gay No spell had memory. He came too late! Her countless dreams Of hope had long since flown; No charms dwelt in his chosen themes, Nor in his whispered tone. And when, with word and smile, he tried Affection still to prove, She nerved her heart with woman's pride And spurned his fickle love. --_Unknown._ 1187 OH, NO! WE NEVER MENTION HIM. Oh, no! we never mention him, his name is never heard; My lips are now forbid to speak that once familiar word: From sport to sport they hurry me, to banish my regret; And when they win a smile from me, they think that I forget. They bid me seek in change of scene the charms that others see; But were I in a foreign land, they'd find no change in me. 'Tis true that I behold no more the valley where we met, I do not see the hawthorn-tree; but how can I forget? For oh! there are so many things recall the past to me-- The breeze upon the sunny hills, the billows of the sea; The rosy tint that decks the sky before the sun is set;-- Ay, every leaf I look upon forbids me to forget. They tell me he is happy now, the gayest of the gay; They hint that he forgets me too,--but I heed not what they say: Perhaps like me he struggles with each feeling of regret; But if he loves as I have loved, he never can forget. --_Thomas Haynes Bayley, 1797-1839._ 1188 Is it possible a man can be so changed by love that one would not know him for the same person? 1189 Girls we love for what they are; young men for what they promise to be. --_Goethe._ 1190 Love is loveliest when embalm'd in tears. 1191 Caresses, expressions of one sort or another, are necessary to the life of the affections, as leaves are to the life of a tree. If they are wholly restrained, love will die at the roots. --_Hawthorne._ 1192 MARTIN LUTHER AND HIS FRIENDS.