THE ORPHAN'S GOOD-BYE.

By Margaret Moran Dixon McDougall

When my heart was sad and lonely,

And had closed its inmost cell

Over the impulsive feelings

That rule my nation's hearts too well.

When the tie was cut asunder,

That had bound me to a home,

And I felt the desolation

Of being in the world alone;

When I first, the veil assuming,

Masked before a treacherous world,

And the hopes romance expanded

Reality had sternly furled;

And the touch of disappointment,

Blighted what was green and fair,

And the spirit's bright revealings

Are not so hopeful as they were.

Precious are the words of kindness,

Falling on the heart like dew,

Freshening though, alas for weakness,

They cannot make things new.

Thoughts come warm from that deep fountain

Where the hidden feelings dwell,

First to thank thee, noble stranger,

Then to say a kind farewell.