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390  FRANCES S. OSGOOD.

A SONG.

YES! "lower to the level"
Of those who laud thee now!
Go! join the joyous revel,
And pledge the heartless vow!
Go! dim the soul-born beauty
That lights that lofty brow!
Fill, fill the bowl! let burning wine
Drown, in thy soul, Love's dream divine!

Yet when the laugh is lightest,
When wildest goes the jest,
When gleams the goblet brightest,
And proudest heaves thy breast,
And thou art madly pledging
Each gay and jovial guest,—
A ghost shall glide amid the flowers—
The shade of Love's departed hours!

And thou shalt drink in sadness
From all the splendor there,
And curse the revel's gladness,
And hate the banquet's glare,
And pine, 'mid Passion's madness,
For true Love's purer air,
And feel thou'dst give their wildest glee,
For one unsullied sigh from me!

Yet deem not this my prayer, love,
Ah! no! if I could keep
Thy alter'd heart from care, love
And charm its griefs to sleep,
Mine only should despair, love
I—I alone would weep!
I—I alone would mourn the flowers
That fade in Love's deserted bowers!

FRANCES S. OSGOOD.  391

SILENT LOVE.

AH! let our love be still a folded flower,
A pure, moss rose-bud blushing to be seen,
Hoarding its balm and beauty for that hour
When souls may meet without the clay between!

Let not a breath of passion dare to blow
Its tender, timid, clinging leaves apart!
Let not the sunbeam, with too ardent glow,
Profane the dewy freshness at its heart!

Ah! keep it folded like a sacred thing!
With tears and smiles its bloom and fragrance nurse;
Still let the modest veil around it cling,
Nor with rude touch its pleading sweetness curse.

Be thou content, as I, to know, not see,
The glowing life, the treasured wealth within—
To feel our spirit-flower still fresh and free,
And guard its blush, its smile, from shame and sin.

Ah! keep it holy! once the veil withdrawn—
Once the rose blooms—its balmy soul will fly,
As fled of old in sadness, yet in scorn,
Th' awaken'd god from Psyche's daring eye!

"SHE LOVES HIM YET."

A SONG.

SHE loves him yet!
I know by the blush that rises
Beneath the curls
That shadow her soul-lit cheek;