sunshine--the old hall, and the lawn, and the singing birds. Can you
wonder that her soft, tender bosom throbbed, that her heart was "melted in
her breast?"

So she plighted me her troth--the dream and joy of my youth. We shall very
soon be married. The ship which I sent from the shore long ago has come
again to port, with a grander treasure than the earth holds beside--it is
the precious, young head which reclined upon my heart!

--And again I can say, as I said long ago: "how good a thing it is to
live!"




MY SECRET.

(FROM THE FRENCH.)

BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW.


My soul its secret has, my life too has its mystery,
A love eternal in a moment's space conceived;
Hopeless the evil is, I have not told its history,
And she who was the cause, nor knew it, nor believed.
Alas! I shall have passed close by her unperceived,
Forever at her side, and yet forever lonely,
I shall unto the end have made life's journey, only
Daring to ask for naught, and having naught received.