24 
Cmus. 
I loved them then, I love them now— 
The gentle and the bright; 
I love them for the thoughts they bring 
Of spring’s returning light; 
When, first-born of the waking earth, 
Their kindred gay appear, 
And, with the Snowdrop, usher in 
The hope-invested year. 
Louisa A. Tioamley. 
You’re glad 
Because your little tiny nose, 
Turns up so pert and funny; 
Because I know you choose your beaux 
More for their mirth than money ; 
Because your eyes are deep and blue,— 
Your fingers long and rosy; 
Because a little maid like you 
Would make one’s home so cozy; 
Because, I think, (I’m just so weak,) 
That some of these fine morrows 
You’ll listen while you hear me speak 
My story, and my sorrows ! 
Anon. 
Gay hope is theirs, by fancy fed, 
Less pleasing when possest; 
The tear forgot as soon as shed, 
The sunshine of the breast; 
Theirs buxom health, of rosy hue ; 
Wild wit, invention ever new, 
And lively cheer of vigour born ; 
