THE PICTURE AND THE SCROLL.
"Oh, mes amis! lisez-vous quelquefois mes vers; mon âme y est empreinte."
A Bride looked long upon her picture: " Thou
Art left among the things I held most dear,
A dearer love is calling me; yet now
These: to my heart have never been so near;
And I shall not be by when they are gay;
They will be sad, and I shall be away;
Yet Thou wilt look upon them night and day,
As once I looked, so now I leave upon
Thy silent lips a kiss to bide alway,—
Smile on them, smile on them when I am gone!"
Art left among the things I held most dear,
A dearer love is calling me; yet now
These: to my heart have never been so near;
And I shall not be by when they are gay;
They will be sad, and I shall be away;
Yet Thou wilt look upon them night and day,
As once I looked, so now I leave upon
Thy silent lips a kiss to bide alway,—
Smile on them, smile on them when I am gone!"
A Singer looked in silence on a scroll,
Her eyes were dark with eloquent fire, her soul
Smiled through them bride-like—yet the hand was cold
That locked her slender palm within its hold,
And set the spousal wreath upon her brow;
She said, "I go from all that has been dear,
For dearer love is calling me; yet now
These to my heart have never been so near,
So will I leave my kiss this scroll upon,
That they may find it, while I whisper clear,
Smile on them, smile on them when I am gone!'"
Her eyes were dark with eloquent fire, her soul
Smiled through them bride-like—yet the hand was cold
That locked her slender palm within its hold,
And set the spousal wreath upon her brow;
She said, "I go from all that has been dear,
For dearer love is calling me; yet now
These to my heart have never been so near,
So will I leave my kiss this scroll upon,
That they may find it, while I whisper clear,
Smile on them, smile on them when I am gone!'"
