p, too oft it cleaves
The sandal-chain of love, and leaves
But fragrant, broken, links at last
To bind us to a ruined past.

Too often fixing deeps of woe
Between us and the long ago;
Bridging a gulf toward mem'ries green,
With one regret--"it might have been."

Oh, why, when life is in its June
Of fruity fragrance, perfect tune,
Does passion's stormy pride destroy
Youths' heritage of love and joy?

One jealous breath will oft disclose
A canker in hope's perfect rose,
For the false fever heat of strife
To nurse, and nourish into life.

Oh, Daisy Dare! the sea is wide:
Dear is the lover by thy side:
The sea is treacherous, hungry, deep,
And millions o'er its treasures weep.

His heart relented--strong hearts do;
Yet more relenting, oft less true
Than those, unyielding, that defy
The deathless love of which they die.

"As forest saplings, by the sun
Together knit till two are one--
One trunk, one bark, one sap, one tree--
Our hearts have been, should ever be.

"Let sharp steel cleave that circling rind,
No art its severed strength could bind;
Should anger part thy love from mine,
Holds earth another heart for thine?"

Oh, stubborn pride! unyielding still;
Her heart is conquered; but her will
Defies its tender, pleading tone:
She left him--they were both alone.

* * * * *

When eve her golden goblet fills
Among the sunset's purple hills,
And overflows that sunset wine
In streams of glory on the brine,

Unto the shore a maiden came,
Who gazed where, down that track of flame
A steamer to the west did dip:
Her heart went outward with the ship.

She had not kept her tryst that day,
Nor waved her hand to Allen Gray:
Both little hands were still--'twas true
She could not "give her heart to two."

She heard the parting signals sound,
And then the haughty pride that bound
Her woman's heart, which had defied
Her woman's love, grew faint and died.

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