6 SEPTEMBER 1890, Page 18



No more I see the blissful Sun ; I feel the gloom of darkened days. Mine is their sadness ; joy is none. But I can feel, thou blissful Sari !

The warmth that kindles in thy rays.

No more I see the roses glow; But Heaven is bending over all. Mine is the heart of things. Although I see no more the roses glow,

I feel their fragrance ere they fall.

And, 0 my dearest ! though I see No looks of love, no smile of bliss, Grief were ingratitude in me.

What though thy form I cannot see ? I feel thy kiss.

What though mine eyes be quenched in shade P For me another light doth shine.

My spirit cannot be dismayed.

What though mine eyes be quenched in shade, When love is mine ?

• The original of this poem was printed in the Spectator of'Anguat 23rd, p. 250