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Mary

YES, we were happy once, and care

My jocund heart could ne'er surprise;

My treasures were, her golden hair,

Her ruby lips, her brilliant eyes.

My treasures were--alas! depart

Ye visions of what used to be!

Cursed be the heart--the cruel heart--

That stole my Mary's love from me.

by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton

First Love

YES, I know that you once were my lover,

But that sort of thing has an end,

And though love and its transports are over,

You know you can still be--my friend:

I was young, too, and foolish, remember;

(Did you ever hear John Hardy sing?)

It was then, the fifteenth of November,

And this is the end of the spring!

by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton

Edward

HEAVY is my trembling heart, mine own love, my dearest,

Heavy as the hearts whose love is poured in vain;

All the bright day I watch till thou appearest,

All the long night I dream of thee again.

When the whisp'ring summer breeze is waving o'er me lightly,

When the moaning winter winds their wail of sadness make;

Then dearest, then, thine image riseth brightly,

I am weary of my life, for Edward's sake.

by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton

They Loved One Another

THEY loved one another! young Edward and his wife,

And in their cottage-home they dwelt, apart from sin and strife.

Each evening Edward weary came from a day of honest toil,

And Mary made the fire blaze, and smiled a cheerful smile.

Oh! what was wealth or pomp to them, the gaudy glittering show,

Of jewels blazing on the breast, where heaves a heart of woe!

The merry laugh, the placid sleep, were theirs; they hated sloth,

And all the little that they had, belonged alike to both,

by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton

My Native Land!

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF KÖRNER.

WHERE is the minstrel's native land?

Where the flames of light and feeling glow;

Where the flowers are wreathed for beauty's brow;

Where the bounding heart swells strong and high,

With holy hopes which may not die--

There is my native land!

What is that bright land's music name?

by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton

My Heart Is Like A Withered Nut!

MY heart is like a withered nut,

Rattling within its hollow shell;

You cannot ope my breast, and put

Any thing fresh with it to dwell.

The hopes and dreams that filled it when

Life's spring of glory met my view,

Are gone! and ne'er with joy or pain

That shrunken heart shall swell anew.

by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton

May-Day, 1837

MAY-DAY is come!--While yet the unwillng Spring

Checks with capricious frown the opening year,

Onward, where bleak winds have been whispering,

The punctual Hours their ancient playmate bear;

But those who long have look'd for thee, stand by,

Like men who welcome back a friend bereaved,

And camnot smile, because his sadden'd eye

by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton

"The Undying One" - Canto III

"THERE is a sound the autumn wind doth make

Howling and moaning, listlessly and low:

Methinks that to a heart that ought to break

All the earth's voices seem to murmur so.

The visions that crost

Our path in light--

The things that we lost

In the dim dark night--

by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton

"The Undying One" - Canto I

MOONLIGHT is o'er the dim and heaving sea,--

Moonlight is on the mountain's frowning brow,

And by their silvery fountains merrily

The maids of Castaly are dancing now.

Young hearts, bright eyes, and rosy lips are there,

And fairy steps, and light and laughing voices,

Ringing like welcome music through the air--

A sound at which the untroubled heart rejoices.

by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton

On Seeing Anthony, The Eldest Child Of Lord And Lady Ashley

IT was a fair and gentle child

Stood leaning by his mother's knee;

His noble brow was smooth and mild--

His eyes shone bright with frolic glee--

And he was stately, though so young;

As from a noble lineage sprung.

II.

by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton

Recollections

DO you remember all the sunny places,

Where in bright days, long past, we played together?

Do you remember all the old home faces

That gathered round the hearth in wintry weather?

Do you remember all the happy meetings,

In Summer evenings round the open door--

Kind looks, kind hearts, kind words and tender greetings,

And clasping hands whose pulses beat no more?

by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton

A Destiny

THERE was a lady, who had early wed

One whom she saw and lov'd in her bright youth,

When life was yet untried--and when he said

He, too, lov'd her, he spoke no more than truth;

He lov'd as well as baser natures can,--

But a mean heart and soul were in that man.

II.

by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton