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344 MARY E.HEWITT.

And quick the gladden'd waters rush
Tumultuous upward to the brink;
A seal is on their joyous gush, 
And back, repress'd, they coldly shrink. 

Thus in their cavern'd space, apart,
Closed from the eye of day, they dwell-
So, prison'd deep within my heart,
The tides of quick affection swell.

Each kindly glance - each kindly tone,
To joy its swift pulsations sway;
But none may lift the veiling stone, 
And give the franchised current way.

Smite THOU the rock, whose eye alone
The hidden spring within may see;
And bid the flood, resistless One!
Flow forth, rejoicing, unto thee.

BLESS THEE.

I MAY not break the holy spell
Thy beauty wove around me,
Till time shall loose the silver cord
That long to earth hath both me. 
I see thee smile on loftier ones, 
And mark the proud caress thee;
Yet when my lips would ope to curse,
They never fail to bless thee. 

One memory round me everywhere, 
One task in silence set me-
The ever, ever thinking on, 
And striving to forget thee.

MARY E. HEWITT.   345

And though the ever-goading thought
To madness thus oppress me,
I may not cure- I cannot hate- 
My heart still whispers, "Bless thee!"

THE LAST CHANT OF CORINNE.

By that mysterious sympathy which chaineth 
For evermore my spirit unto thine;
And by the memory, that alone remained,
Of that sweet hope that now no more is mine;
And by the love my trembling heart betrayeth,
That, born of thy soft gaze, within me lies;
As the lone desert bird, the Arab safety,
Warms her young brood to life with her fond eyes. 

Hear me, adored one! though the world divide us, 
Though never more my hand in thine be press, 
Though to commingle thought be here denied us, 
Till our high hearts shall beat themselves to rest;
Forget me not! forget me not! oh! ever
This one, one prayer, my spirit pours to thee;
Till every memory from earth shall sever,
Remember, oh, beloved! remember me!

And when the light within my eye is shaded, 
When I, o'er-wearied, sleep the sleep profound,
And, like that nymph of yore, who droop'd and faded,
And pined for love, till she became a sound;
My song, perchance, awhile to earth remaining, 
Shall come in murmur'd melody to thee;
Then let my lyre's deep, passionate complaining, 
Cry to thy heart, beloved! remember me!

Transcription Notes:
---------- Reopened for Editing 2023-06-27 18:07:59