170 ANDREW MARVEt, 



Surpass the beauty of those beings bright 



That visions oft reveal. Her golden hair 



Unbraided, scatters o'er her snowy breast 



In wanton wildness, and betrays a heart 



Heedless of effort to increase her charms. 



As desolate — not having one to please ! 



Her cheek is pale, but yet the softest blush 



Of rosy crimson tinges it, so slight 



The eye can scarcely catch it. Thought — sad thought. 



Sits deeply printed on her clouded brow ; 



And hopeless melancholy casts its veil 



On her calm features. Sorrow's moisture swells 



Beneath her eyelids, which have been the fount 



Whence streams of anguish have profusely flowed 



From her bereaved heart, — once blest with love 



To sweet confiding exstacy, but soon 



" The love of false and cruel man" betrayed 



The trusting gentleness of her waim breast ; 



And he who wTonged her gave this little fawn. 



With silver chain and bell, that its quick play 



Might oft amuse her, but when he " grew wild" 



And " took his heart" which he had given to her. 



It was a solitary link which bound 



The sweetest thoughts of former loving hours 



Upon her memory. — That link is snapt. 



And full desertion rushes on her soul 



With its cold winter-blast — its icy storm ! 



Where now is solace for her bleeding heart. 



