THE EVENING PRIMROSE. 
209 
I know my voice hath lost its spell; 
I know my song can charm no more; 
Thy few, but sadden’d glances, tell 
Love’s sweet but fatal dream is o’er. 
Some other now hath won thy heart, 
On whom thy hopes will now rely; 
’Twere better, then, that we should part, 
And part for ever—you and I. 
J. E. Carpenter. 
