TO MISS M BY FRANCES SARGENT OSGOOD. I KNOW that thou art beautiful,— I see its dimples come and go Thy rich eyes steal before mine own And why is this? what wizard spell A tone-a word-a flower! I heard thy voice-so gayly sweet— I could not choose to guess, The mouth that breath'd it wreath'd with smiles Of playful loveliness. It spoke to one whose tiny lips To lisp thy name shall learn, In gentle words of love they spoke, And I was very sure, That all thy looks were eloquent, I know that thou art beautiful,— In a sweet language that I learned Thou'st sent me from thy garden bower Its blush was eloquent, its leaves Ah! what so fit as fragrant flowers It touched a weary stranger's heart, In sadness and alone; It minded her of days gone by, When Love's untiring hand Wove blossoms for her youthful brow, That heart still warmly beats ith something of its olden joy, When such as thou she meets! d oft in future dreams shall rise The eye and glossy curl, e soft rose-bloom and dimple Of the sweet-voiced English girl! LOVE UNCHANGEABLE. BY RUFUS DAWES. YES! Still I love thee :-Time, who sets His signet on my brow, And dims my sunken eye, forgets The heart he could not bow ;Where love, that cannot perish, grows For one, alas! that little knows How love may sometimes last; Like sunshine wasting in the skies, The dew-drop hanging o'er the rose, Can never touch a leaf that blows, Though seeming to the sight; And yet it still will linger there, Like hopeless love without despair,— A snow-drop in the sun! A moment finely exquisite, Alas! but only one. |