THE CYNIC'S FEALTY.

We all have hearts that shake alike

Beneath the arias of Fate's hand;

Although the cynics sneering stand,

These too the deathless powers strike.

A trembling lover's infinite trust,

To the last drop of doating blood,

Feels not alone the ocean flood

Of desperate grief, when dreams are dust.

The scornfullest souls, with mourning eyes,

Pant o'er again their ghostly ways;—

Dread night-paths, where were gleaming days

When life was lovelier than the skies!