Myra

“One look upon thy face ere thou depart! My daughter! it is soon to let thee go! My daughter! with thy birth has gushed a spring I knew not of—filling my heart with tears, And t...

It was spring-time in the South—that rich, bright season more luxurious in foliage and profuse in fragrance than our warm and mellow summers ever are. The orange-trees were all...

Oh, she was like a fawn, chased to the plain, Half blind with grief and mad with sudden pain That plunges wildly in its first despair, To any copse that offers shelter there.

Once again they met, And then they saw, each in the other’s heart, And the black falsehood that had sever’d them Rose palpable and hideous to the thought. Hot tears were shed—sa...

A being of beauty she fell to her dreaming— Thought flitted in gleamings of light through her brain, In the depths of her eye it was constantly gleaming, Still lighting her soul...

She left the parent roof, and left in grief, Not from an idle passion vain and light, But in her heart there lived a firm belief, That duty call’d and honor urged her flight.

While Myra was exchanging her drenched garments, and partaking of those refreshments which her late and comfortless ride rendered so necessary, she related to her young friends...

“Pain! pain! art thou wrestling here with man, For the broken gold of his wasted span? Art thou straining thy rock on his tortured nerve, Till his firmest hopes from their ancho...