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SONGS OF THE AFFECTIONS.
And sometimes Pity—soft and deep,
And quivering through a tear;
Even as if Love in Heaven could weep,
For Grief left drooping here.
And oh! my spirit needs that balm,
Needs it 'midst fitful mirth;
And in the night-hour's haunted calm,
And by the lonely hearth.
Look on me thus, when hollow praise
Hath made the weary pine
For one true tone of other days,
One glance of love like thine!
Look on me thus, when sudden glee
Bears my quick heart along,
On wings that struggle to be free,
As bursts of skylark song.
