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THE BARD’S AFFECTION.
From the nightingale could learn
Where she tarries to discern;
There his noblest music swells
Through the portals of the dells!
When I am from her away,
I have neither laugh nor lay!
Neither soul nor sense is left,
I am half of mind bereft;
When she comes, with grief I part,
And am altogether heart!
Songs inspired, like flowing wine,
Rush into the mind of mine;
Sense enough again comes back
To direct me in my track!
Not one hour shall I be gay,
Whilst my Morvyth is away!
THE MIRROR.
I always deemed my features bright,
And beautiful and fair,
Until yon mirror met my sight—
When, lo! an ugly face was there!
And from that mirror I have learned,
That now my beauty all is fled,
