LOVE’S TOKEN-FLOWERS. 
23 
Well can I read thy thoughts - thy gentle heart 
(Already woman’s in its wish to bless) 
Now longs for one to whom it may impart 
Its untold wealth of hidden tenderness, 
And yearns to know the meaning of the thrill 
That wakes when fancy stirs affection’s rill. 
Thou dreamest of love’s happiness,-the deep 
And placid joy which poets paint so well. 
Alas ! our passions, even when they sleep, 
Like ocean waves, are heaved with secret 
swell, 
And they who hear the frequent, low-breathed 
sigh, 
Know ’tis the wailing of the storm gone by. 
Vain, vain are all thy visions ; couldst thou know 
The secrets of a woman’s weary lot, 
Oh! couldst thou read upon her pride-veiled brow 
Her wasted tenderness, her love forgot. 
In humbleness of heart thou wouldst kneel down, 
And pi ay for strength to wear her martyr crown. 
