FAIRY’S GLOVE, OR FOX-GLOVE.I am not changed,—they wrong me 
The deepest wrong that thou couldst do, 
Is thus to doubt my love for thee; 
For questioning that, thou question’st too 
My truth, my pride, my purity. 
’Twere worse than falsehood thus to meet 
Thy least caress, thy lightest smile, 
Nor feel my heart exulting beat 
With sweet, impassioned joy the while. 
The deepest wrong that thou couldst do, 
Is thus to doubt my faith professed! 
How should I, love, be less than true, 
When thou art noblest, bravest, best ? 
F. S. O. 
Oh ! they never can know that heart of thine, 
Who dare accuse thee of flirtation! 
They might as well say that the stars, which shine 
In the light of their joy o’er creation, 
Are flirting with every wild wave in which lies 
One beam of the glory that kindles the skies. 
Smile on, then, undimmed in your beauty and grace! 
Too well e’er to doubt, love, we know you;— 
And shed, from your heaven, the light of your face, 
Where the waves chase each other below you; 
For none can e’er deem it your shame or your sin, 
That each wave holds your star image smiling within. 
Fanny Fay. 
