words were gay
No spell had memory.

He came too late! Her countless dreams
Of hope had long since flown;
No charms dwelt in his chosen themes,
Nor in his whispered tone.
And when, with word and smile, he tried
Affection still to prove,
She nerved her heart with woman's pride
And spurned his fickle love.

--_Unknown._

1187

OH, NO! WE NEVER MENTION HIM.

Oh, no! we never mention him, his name is never heard;
My lips are now forbid to speak that once familiar word:
From sport to sport they hurry me, to banish my regret;
And when they win a smile from me, they think that I forget.

They bid me seek in change of scene the charms that others see;
But were I in a foreign land, they'd find no change in me.
'Tis true that I behold no more the valley where we met,
I do not see the hawthorn-tree; but how can I forget?

For oh! there are so many things recall the past to me--
The breeze upon the sunny hills, the billows of the sea;
The rosy tint that decks the sky before the sun is set;--
Ay, every leaf I look upon forbids me to forget.

They tell me he is happy now, the gayest of the gay;
They hint that he forgets me too,--but I heed not what they say:
Perhaps like me he struggles with each feeling of regret;
But if he loves as I have loved, he never can forget.

--_Thomas Haynes Bayley, 1797-1839._

1188

Is it possible a man can be so changed by love that one would not know
him for the same person?

1189

Girls we love for what they are; young men for what they promise to be.

--_Goethe._

1190

Love is loveliest when embalm'd in tears.

1191

Caresses, expressions of one sort or another, are necessary to the life
of the affections, as leaves are to the life of a tree. If they are
wholly restrained, love will die at the roots.

--_Hawthorne._

1192

MARTIN LUTHER AND HIS FRIENDS.

"My dear Veit," said Luther, "I have said it often and I repeat it
again, whoever would know God aright and speculate concerning Him
without danger, must look into the manger, and learn first of all to
know the Son of the Virgin Mary, born at Bethlehem, lying in His
mother's bosom or hanging upon the cross;