82 love’s token-flowees. 
For life to all presents a cup of trembling, 
And they who quaff learn many a solemn truth. 
Upon, my spirit rests a cloud of sadness, 
My hopes no more go forth like birds in spring, 
Chanting a matin song of quiet gladness, 
And shedding sunshine from each radiant wing. 
HAWTHORN. —Crat-sjgtjs Oxtoantha. 
Patient Hope. 
I know thou lovest me not—I know 
My image now must seem 
A footprint in the drifting snow— 
A shadow on the stream ; 
Yet on thy memory will I trace 
A name that years can ne’er efface. 
I know that all thy dreams of life 
With brighter hopes are fraught, 
Yet ’mid the future’s weary strife 
Will come a gentle thought, 
Winning thy heart in sadness back 
To pleasures in thy by-past track. 
