Good-night? ah! no; the hour is ill Which severs those it should unite; Let us remain together still, Then it will be good night. How can I call the lone night good, Though thy sweet wishes wing its flight? Be it not said, thought, understood -- Then it will be -- good night. To hearts which near each other move From evening close to morning light, The night is good; because, my love, They never say good-night. ...

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1 The everlasting universe of things Flows through the mind, and rolls its rapid waves, Now dark - now glittering - now reflecting gloom - Now lending splendor, where from secret springs The source of human thought its tribute brings Of waters, - with a sound but half its own, Such as a feeble brook will oft assume In the wild woods, amon the mountains lone, Where waterfalls around it leap for ever, Where woods and winds contend, and a vast river Over its rocks ceaselessly bursts and raves. 2 Thus thou, Ravine ...

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There is a change--and I am poor; Your love hath been, nor long ago, A fountain at my fond heart's door, Whose only business was to flow; And flow it did; not taking heed Of its own bounty, or my need. What happy moments did I count! Blest was I then all bliss above! Now, for that consecrated fount Of murmuring, sparkling, living love, What have I? Shall I dare to tell? A comfortless and hidden well. A well of love--it may be deep-- I trust it is,--and never dry: What matter? If the ...

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