Mary Eliza Perine Tucker Lambert

Oh! give to me of the bright green leaves,
For they tell me of the past;
When I roved at will mid the golden sheaves-
And my heart it wildly, madly grieves,
...

The Lord in risen ! In the early dawn
Nature awakens to the glad surprise,
And incense sweet from blossoming vale and lawn
...

I have pined for the sight of the sea for years-
Pined amid hoping, and wished amid fears;
...

NO, let it stay. It speaks but truth:
My Autumn's day is dawning.
The dream is past; sweet dream of youth.
Hair, I accept thy warning.
...

Evening came, a child was missing,
Where she was, we could not tell,-
Hiding, thought we, just for mischief;
Full of fun was little Bell.
...

Her eyes are bright as sparkling stars,
And as the violet blue;
In them celestial beauty lies,
The soul-light flashing through.
...

Only a blush! O'er the cheek it swept,
In a tint, but a shade more bright,
While over the forehead the soft glow crept,
...

Alas! the time has come, old dress,
When you and I must part;
To say adieu, my valued friend,
Is tearing heart from heart.
...

Ah! I could curse them in my woe,
E'en as the viper stings,
And to the heel that strikes it clings,
So I could plant my blow.
...

Speak to her tenderly, taunt her not now,
Tho' a million of sins hath deep furrowed her brow;
Greet her with kindness. Her once raven hair
...

Many long years ago, I loved a youth,
Who seemed the soul of honor and of truth-
He charmed my heart with some unholy spell,
...

I entered my parlor one bright summer morn,
My vases with flowers, sweet flowers to adorn.
In arranging the curtains, there fell on my head
...

Now the bitter pangs of hope deferred
O'er us no longer reign,-
But the very depths of our hearts are stirred
With a still more poignant pain;
...

Hast thou no mercy, wind, that thou should'st tear from me,
All that is left me of my loved-my ...
...

I know thou art a senseless thing,
Still recollections round thee cling
Of joys long past;
And I would fain retain thee now,
...

[Before taking a dose.]
Life's pathway to me is dreary;
I am ill, and cold, and weary;
...

A soldier boy lay dreaming
In his lonely prison cell,
While the stars above were gleaming,
And their lustre on him fell.
...

I waited full two hours, or more,
Beneath the old pine tree,
Where oft I've lingered twilight hours,
Watching, my Love, for thee.
...

Write to thine eyes? Why, my poor pen
Quails at the unequal task;
I fear you don't appreciate
The mighty boon you ask.
...

The sky low down in distant West, is tinged with golden hue,
While all the glorious vault above is one bright mass of blue.
...