by the votaries of love,
Whose dulcidence,
Soft and intense,
Soars dreamily above.

It is the sign
Of Earth's fraternity, the only tie
That links us all,
Both great and small,
In common sympathy.

It is the heart
Issueing from its prison house of clay;
Perchance gladly,
Perchance sadly,
Wending on its way.

IONE.

Sad are the glances from thy deep blue eyes,
Ione,
Soft as the mirror of the summer skies
When twilight shadows o'er its surface steal,
And twinkling stars their radiant orbs reveal!
Why are they sad
Which were so glad,
Ione?
Have their rays bathed in dew-drops 'mid the air,
And still the sparkling moisture trembles there?
Then, smile, for dewy tears
Melt when the sun appears,
Ione!
Yet thou art very beautiful in sadness,
Ione!
More beautiful e'en than in gladness,
And the sweet music of thy gentle sighs
Comes like the language of thy speaking eyes;
What do they say?
Tell me their lay,
Ione!
Fain would I learn from thee what passing thought
Can with such plaintive melody be fraught--
Ah! wherefore turn away,
Stay, yet a little stay,
Ione!

REALITY.

O the heart has dreams Elysian!
That steal o'er it calm and sweet,
Hushing pain like a magician
Who binds spirits at his feet.

But the forms that throng its mazes
Are too bright for mortal birth,
And the scenes that fancy raises
Far too beautiful for earth.

Let us turn with humbler spirits
To the things that God has made,
Pass the weakness flesh inherits,
Since the sunshine, too, has shade.

'Tis the pride of human nature
That makes life seem cold and drear,
Drawing up a dwarfish stature
To o'ertop its proper sphere.

Gath'ring round it misty fancies,
Like the mountain's cloudy wreath,
Till the spirit's errant glances
See no beauty underneath.

There are true hearts beating nigh us
As we fight the fight of life,
Hearts unstain'd by guilty bias,
Hearts unharden'd by its strife.

There are gentle bosoms swelling
With all moti