elieve that there is no other smile than
yours for which I live, and that, without the love with which you once
gladdened me, there can be no rest or peace for me on earth? Tell me,
then, that all this is but a cruel pleasantry to prove my heart, and
that there has nothing come between us--or else let me know the worst,
in order that I may die.'

Sliding down, until her knees touched the floor, and then winding one
arm slowly about his neck, she hid her face in his breast, and, bursting
into tears, sobbed aloud. It was not merely the reactionary breaking
down of a nervous system strung to the highest point of undue
excitement. It was the half consciousness of a terrible fear lest the
day might come in which, goaded by injustice and neglect, she might
learn no longer to love the man before her--the wail of a stricken soul
pleading that the one to whom her heart had bound her might not fail in
his duty to her, but, by a resumption of his former kindness and
affection, might retain her steadfastly in the path of love.

Touched by the spectacle of her strong agony--aroused for the moment to
the true realization of all the bitterness and baseness of his
unkindness toward her--moved, perhaps, by memories of that time when
between them there was pleasant and endearing confidence, and when it
was not she who was obliged to plead for love--Sergius drew his arm more
closely about her, and, bending over, pressed his lips upon her
forehead. If at that moment the opportunity had not failed, who can tell
what open and generous confessions might not have been uttered,
unrestrained forgiveness sealed, and future miseries prevented? But at
the very moment when the words seemed trembling upon his lips, the door
softly opened, and Leta entered.

THE DOVE.

Upon the 'pallid bust of Pallas' sat
The Raven from the 'night's Plutonian shore;'
His burning glance withered my wasting life,
His ceaseless cry still tortured as before:
'Lenore! Lenore! ah! never--nevermore!'

The weary moments dragged their crimson sands
Slow through the life-blood of my sinking heart.
I counted not their flow; I only knew
Time and Eternity were of one hue;
That immortality were endless pain
To one who the long lost could ne'er regain--
There was no hope that Death would Love restore:
'Lenore! Lenore! ah! never--nevermore!'

Early one morn I left my sleepless couch,
Seeking in change of pla