EVA.

A cottage in a peaceful vale;

A jasmine round the door;

A hill to shelter from the gale;

A silver brook before.

Oh, sweet the jasmine's buds of snow,

In mornings soft with May;

Oh, silver-clear the waves that flow,

Reflecting heaven, away!

A sweeter bloom to Eva's youth

Rejoicing Nature gave;

And heaven was mirror'd in her truth

More clear than on the wave.

Oft to that lone sequester'd place

My boyish steps would roam,

There was a look in Eva's face

That seem'd a smile of home.

And oft I paused to hear at noon

A voice that sang for glee;

Or mark the white neck glancing down,—

The book upon the knee.—