A stain thus rested on his name--
But he was wronged and she deceived;
Ah! rash the act that gave her hand,
That drove her lover from her side--
Who hied him to a distant land,
Where, battling for a name, he died!

She loved him--and his memory now
Was treasured from the world apart:
The calm of thought was on her brow,
The seeds of death were in her heart.
For all the world that thing forlorn
I would not, could not be, and live--
That casket with its jewel gone,
A bride who has no heart to give!





The Suitors.




Wealth sought the bower of Beauty,
Dressed like a modern beau:
Just then Love, Health, and Duty
Took up their hats to go.
Wealth such a cordial welcome met,