'My only beloved! You must pardon me for this note. The adieu of last evening was only for the night; I wish to say good bye this morning, for a longer time. Your answer to my suit was not unexpected; in fact, I knew it would be as it was; and it was only a fatality, a blind impulse, that drove me to make that disclosure. I fear that it has given you pain, and I beg you to forgive my thoughtlessness. And in turn, you may rest assured that I forgive you for all the anguish and sickness of spirit that I have suffered on your account. There is nothing to be forgiven; I know that you would not cause unhappiness to any one, and it has been my own folly and madness. But I promise not to lay it up in my heart against you. I promise that in future years, wherever my lot may be cast, you shall be in my memory, only my pure, sweet, innocent cousin. And so, blessings be on your head! I go forth a vagabond and a wanderer on the face of the earth. It is probable that you will never hear from me again; and I pray you to forget our last interview, that your thoughts may be only peace. I would live in your remembrance as I was when we first met. And do not think, because long years of silence and wide lands and many mountains divide us, that your cousin has forgotten you. Your image lives in his heart and can never die!' STANZAS WRITTEN IN INDISPOSITION. BY THE LATE WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK. I. The Spring is fair, when early flowers Unfold them to the golden sun; When, singing to the gladsome hours, Blue streams through vernal meadows run; When from the woods and from the sky The birds their joyous anthems pour; And Ocean, filled with melody, Sends his glad billows to the shore. II. The Spring is sweet: its balmy breath Is rapture to the wearied breast, When vines with roses fondly wreathe, Fann'd by soft breezes from the West; When, opening by the cottage eave, The earliest buds invite the bee; And brooks their icy bondage leave, To dance in music toward the sea. III. The Spring is gay: but to my heart The glorious hues she used to wear, As sunset clouds in gloom depart, Have vanish'd in the empty air: They move not now my spirit's wing, As in the stainless days of yore: The happy dreams they used to bring Have pass'd--and they will come no more. IV. Not that those dreams have lost their sway-- Not that my heart hath lost its chords; Still with affection tuned, they play, And leap at friendship's kindly words; But 'tis that to my languid eye A _newness_ from life's scene hath flown, Which once upon the open sky, And o'er the teeming earth, was thrown. V.