Darkly and drearily,

Ellen Lisle,

Pass the lonely moments

All the while;

Come, bid this night begone,
Come, haste the rosy morn,
And cheer a heart forlorn,
Ellen Lisle.

Quickly and speedily

Ellen Lisle,

Greet with thy voice again
Home, sweet home,

Then, filled with joy profound,

My spirits will rebound

And its echoes resound,

Ellen's come.

TO MY LAST RESORT."

The following lines were written from Kansas City, Mo., in' 1869, to a young lady in Jefferson, who had, on his departure West, promised the writer that after unsuccessful effort elsewhere, she would be his last resort.

""Tis my last resort," my beautiful one,

For I've searched in vain all climes of the sun,
Till hope is eclipsed in the shadow of fear
And the tablet of joy is stained with a tear.
Come in thy beauty in this hour of despair
And bring back the face my heart used to wear;
Yea, teach me to live in the glance of thine eye,

To weep when thou'rt far and laugh when thou'rt nigh,

To trust in thy truth when storms are above

And anchor my faith in thy haven of love.

Stay not thy coming, for night shadows fall,

Investing my heart in an ominous pall;

Thy presence will bring the sun through the cloud,

The beams of thy love dispel the dark shroud,

Welcome the morrow with rosy delight,

And follow with joy the footsteps of night.

Be queen of this heart and make it thy home,
When safe from the storm no sorrow shall come,
Each moment be blest and instinctively seem
A Utopia of bliss, a fairly-land dream,

Till angels look down from heaven above

And crimson their blush in its mirror of love.

Oh! then I'll not mourn the loves that I have lost,

But estimate all as the sum of thy cost,
Nor think you o'er dear or prize you the less,

That these were wanting in genuineness.

"Since last shall be first," let anchor be cast

And you shall be first, and shall be the last.

(On seeing an old sweetheart after several years' absence, 1881.)

Bright dream of my youth! Sweet shade of the past,

I saw thee to-day, how changed since the last;
The hope of my youth is vanished and gone,

Its prayer unanswered, its desire undone;

Thy bright smile may still excite the cold heart,
But to hopes now dead, no life can impart,

A gulf lies between I dare not pass o'er,
Though a heart and a hand await me on shore;
But memory yet lives in scenes of the past,
And o'er its dreamland its halo will cast
As smiles that light up the face of the dead,
The beams still linger, when the spirit is fled.