ALEXANDER SMITH

In the years I've changed ;

Wild and far my heart has ranged,

And many sins and errors now have been on me avenged ; But to you I have been faithful whatsoever good I lack'd i I loved you, and above my life still hangs that love intact Your love the trembling rainbow, I the reckless cataract.

Still I love you, Barbara.

Yet, Love, I am unblest ; With many doubts opprest,

I wander like the desert wind without a place of rest. Could I but win you for an hour from off that starry shore, The hunger of my soul were still'd ; for Death hath told

you more

Than the melancholy world doth know things deeper than all lore

You could teach me, Barbara.

In vain, in vain, in vain ! You will never come again. There droops upon the dreary hills a mournful fringe of

rain; The gloaming closes slowly round, loud winds are in the

tree, Round selfisn shores for ever moans the hurt and wounded

sea.-

There is no rest upon the earth, peace is with Death and thee Barbara !

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