492 
ESTELLE. 
“ Watch it, dear friend, for me \ 
’Tis bending now, to catch the water’s tone ! 
The wave, perhaps, may whisper to the tree, 
Of him, who blends its thriving with his own." 
And then, his name he graved 
Upon the bark, and turned his steps away— 
And o’er the river, still the branches waved, 
And still the stream flowed on, from day to day. 
And she, as years went by, 
Oft wandered in her walks to that lone spot; 
But to her questionings came no reply. 
The waves were mute, the breezes answered not. 
Dreamer, where art thou now ? 
The axe has hewn thy tree, but not destroyed— 
Dough hewn, perchance thy fortunes. Where art thou? 
In what far land dost wander, how employed J 
The sympathetic chain 
Of friendship, ever circles thee around, 
And by its strong, magnetic power, again 
Thy image to thy chosen tree is bound. 
For still thy friend of old, 
Is watching o’er thy visioned destiny, 
Bound by her promised word, her faith to hold 
In this, thy speculative prophecy. 
