L'AMOUR PAR TERRE.

THE wind the other evening overthrew

The little Love who smiled so mockingly

Down that mysterious alley, so that we,

Remembering, mused thereon a whole day through.

The wind has overthrown him! The poor stone

Lies scattered to the breezes. It is sad

To see the lonely pedestal, that had

The artist's name, scarce visible, alone,

Oh! it is sad to see the pedestal

Left lonely! and in dream I seem to hear

Prophetic voices whisper in my ear

The lonely and despairing end of all.

Oh! it is sad! And thou, hast thou not found

One heart-throb for the pity, though thine eye

Lights at the gold and purple butterfly

Brightening the littered leaves upon the ground.