O SCENES I USED TO KNOW.

I can see the back-log blazing and the sparkles take their flight
Up the cavernous old chimney on a merry Christmas night;
I can see the old folks smiling and the children's cheeks aglow,
And a saucy maiden standing there beneath the mistletoe;
I can hear the laughter mingle with the strains of music sweet
As we tripped the light fantastic with the "many-twinkling feet;"
I can see the moonlight gleaming through the trees upon the snow,
When memory takes me back again to scenes I used to know.

I can see the candles burning bright upon the Christmas tree;
I can see the presents handed round, and hear the shouts of glee,
And from the buried years there comes a-stealing on the heart
A something indefinable which bids the tear-drop start;
I can see the blue smoke curling, through the little strip of wood
Between the winding turnpike road and where the farmhouse stood;
I can see the colts a-playing, I can hear the cattle low--
When memory takes me back again to scenes I used to know.

I can see it all when fancy weaves its magic with a dream,
And I hear the tones from voices like the murmur of a stream;
And oh, the heart seems young again and from its anguish free
When I gaze upon these pictures that are ever dear to me;
Then I see the darkies dancing, I can hear the fiddle ring
As they gathered in the cabin and they cut the pigeon-wing;
I can smell the 'possum roasting, I can see the cider flow,
When memory takes me back again to scenes I used to know.

BEREFT.

I.

No more to feel the pressure warm
Of dimpled arms around your neck--
No more to clasp the little form
That Nature did with beauty deck.

II.

No more to hear the music sweet
Of merry laugh and prattling talk--
No more to see the busy feet
Come toddling down the shaded walk.

III.

No more the glint of flaxen hair
That nestled 'round the lilied brow--
No more the rose's bloom will wear
The cheek so cold and pallid now.

IV.

No more the light from loving eyes,
Whose hue was like the violet blown
Where Summer's softest, bluest skies,
Had lent it coloring from their own.

V.

No more to fondly bend above
The little one when slumber wrought,
With sweetest dreams, the smile of love
The placid features then had caught.

VI.

No more on earth--oh, nevermore!
The shattered idols of the heart
Can yearning love nor time restore--
But--you may meet to never part!