BY G. P. MORRIS.

When other friends are round thee,

And other hearts are thine;

When other bays have crowned thee,

More fresh and green than mine.

Then think how sad and lonely

This wretched heart will be;

Which, while it beats--beats only,

Beloved one! for thee.

Yet do not think I doubt thee;

I know thy truth remains,

I would not live without thee

For all the world contains.

Thou art the star that guides me

Along life's troubled sea,

And whatever fate betides me,

This heart still turns to thee.

The New-York Book of Poetry · 第 292 / 306 题