Winsome, tinsome Caroline,
Unto such excess 'twould move me,
Teazing, pleasing, cousin mine!
That she might the live-long day
Undermine the snuffer-tray,
Tickle still my hooked nose,
Startle me from calm repose
With her pretty persecution;
Throw the tongs against my shins,
Run me through and through with pins,
Like a pierced cushion;
Would she only say she'd love me,
Darning-needles should not move me;
But, reclining back, I'd say,
"Dearest! there's the snuffer-tray;
Pinch, O pinch those legs of mine!
Cork me, cousin Caroline!"

To a Forget-Me-Not,

FOUND IN MY EMPORIUM OF LOVE-TOKENS.

Sweet flower, that with thy soft blue eye
Didst once look up in shady spot,
To whisper to the passer-by
Those tender words--Forget-me-not!

Though withered now, thou art to me
The minister of gentle thought,--
And I could weep to gaze on thee,
Love's faded pledge--Forget-me-not!

Thou speak'st of hours when I was young,
And happiness arose unsought;
When she, the whispering woods among,
Gave me thy bloom--Forget-me-not!

That rapturous hour with that dear maid
From memory's page no time shall blot,
When, yielding to my kiss, she said,
"Oh, Theodore--Forget me not!"

Alas for love! alas for truth!
Alas for man's uncertain lot!
Alas for all the hopes of youth
That fade like thee--Forget-me-not!

Alas for that one image fair,
With all my brightest dreams inwrought!
That walks beside me everywhere,
Still whispering--Forget-me-not!

Oh, Memory! thou art but a sigh
For friendships dead and loves forgot,
And many a cold and altered eye
That once did say--Forget-me-not!

And I must bow me to thy laws,
For--odd although it may be thought--
I can't tell who the deuce it was
That gave me this Forget-me-not!

The Meeting.

Once I lay beside a fountain,
Lulled me with its gentle song,
And my thoughts o'er dale and mountain
With the clouds were borne along.

There I saw old castles flinging
Shadowy gleams on moveless seas,
Saw gigantic forests swinging
To and fro without a breeze;

And in dusky alleys straying,
Many a giant shape of power,
Troops of nymphs in sunshine playing,
Singing, dancing, hour on hour.

I, too, trod these plains Elysian,
Heard their ringing tones of mirth,
But a brighter, fairer vision
Called me back again to earth.

From the forest shade advancing,
See, where comes a lovely May;
The dew, like gems, before her g