GRACE HILL, 1842.

The night was bright and beautiful,

The dew was on the flower,

The stars were keeping watch, it was

The lover's parting hour.

The night wind rippled o'er the wave,

The moon shone on the two,

The boat was waiting, part they must,

“Eliza, love, adieu!”

“You know how fondly I have loved,

How long, how true, how dear,

And though fate sends me far away

My heart will linger here.

“Bright hope, the lover's comfort, can

Alone my heart console,

Or soothe the pain of parting with

The empress of my soul.

“When other suitors vainly talk

Of fondly loving you,

Remember him who truly loved

As no one else can do.

“I'll think upon the place contains

My dark-eyed source of bliss,

When roaming idly, blindly through

The gay metropolis.

“Weep not, weep not, my dearest girl,

Your tears my bosom pain,

Remember,” fondly added he,

“We part to meet again.”

He made her pledge him heart to heart

She would not him forget,

Asked her to sigh when at the spot

Where they had often met.

He spoke much of how deep was stamped

Her image on his mind;

One more adieu, the boat was gone.

And she was left behind.

True was the maiden, and she kept

While weeks and months took wing,

His name deep treasured in her heart,

As‘ twere a sacred thing.

And he — did he return again

Her long love to repay?

No! in good sooth, as Byron says,

He laughed to flee away.