M A R G A R E E. 
 
M A R G A 
 
 E E 
 
 BY 
 
 HAMPDEN MASSOR. 
 
 y 
 
 PHILADELPHIA 
 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 
 1871. 
 

 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S70, by 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO., 
 
 In tlie Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
t-— 
 
 " Early, bright, transient as tlie morning clew, 
 She sparkled, was exhaled, and went to heaven." 
 
 Young. 
 
 (5) 
 
PART FIRST. 
 
PART FIRST 
 
 Downy vales and distant mountains ; 
 
 Clambering vines and clustering roses ; 
 Sylvan grottos near old fountains ; 
 
 Landscapes, where the soul reposes — 
 Stay awhile ! 
 Be like visions in the sunset, 
 
 Seen from an JEgean isle. 
 
 Broken arch and crumbling column ; 
 
 Mossy gates of castles hoary; 
 Mouldering temples, sad and solemn ; 
 Weirdly dreamful of old story — 
 Stay awhile I 
 Blend the mind in olden glory, 
 Peaceful as a Sabbath smile. 
 
 (9) 
 
lo MARGAREE. 
 
 Lingering footsteps, echoing lonel}^ 
 Eyes pathetic, glancing ever 
 
 On one pictured maiden only, 
 Meekly peerless, fading never — 
 Stay awhile ! 
 
 Number with me holy annals ; 
 From the Past, the Past beguile. 
 
 Fair is the scene — surpassing fair — 
 Where Densor's noble mansion stands 
 
 Serene in grandeur ; and the air 
 Is like the balm of eastern lands, 
 And w^innowed there by fairy wands. 
 
 Fair are the mansion's regal rooms, 
 And galleries, like enchanted ground. 
 
 Where mingled Art the soul illumes — 
 Where wondrous marbles gaze around 
 On limners' gems which there abound. 
 
MARGAREE. n 
 
 Fair and historic ) youth and age 
 Are impressed o'er its stately pilC; 
 
 Where many an ancient knight and sage 
 Looked from its towers, nor saw meanwhile 
 The courts which now in beauty smile. 
 
 Yet fairer still — so others tell 
 Of other days — and loved of all 
 
 Was she, whose silenced marriage-bell 
 
 There long time moaned through cot and hall, 
 Like some wild, wind-swept waterfall. 
 
 Once, as I loitered pensively 
 
 Where lie the dead of Densor's vale. 
 
 The aged steward came to me 
 
 Witli looks and words all kind and hale, 
 And told anon her gentle tale. 
 
 Approaching twilight brought the hour 
 That seems so long and lustrous there ; 
 
 It came with balmy, blending power, 
 And tinged with rich and reverent air 
 The somber, neighboring place of prayer. 
 
12 MARGAREE. 
 
 Sweet thoughts of other days were seen 
 To kindle in the old man's eye; 
 
 And whilst he spake of what had been, 
 Deep in his tones did pathos lie, 
 As though he felt his dear ones nigh. 
 
 ''Oft in these climes," he said, ''is found 
 
 Midst lowlier flowers some white moss-rose. 
 Which perfumes all the air around. 
 And to the mind a sense bestows 
 Of love and beauty in repose. 
 
 " So she, whose form yon tomb enshrouds, 
 Gave sweetness to this ancient vale. 
 O'er which the morn and evening clouds 
 . Appear to linger as they sail. 
 And mutely cry, 'All hail! all hail!' 
 
 "And though she claimed no noble line, 
 Yet well-born ancestry had she : 
 Her father was a meek divine, 
 
 Who early died, and ne'er did see 
 His child, the future Margaree. 
 
MARGAREE. 13 
 
 "And long his sires were marked and high, — 
 E'en as he stood in classic halls, — 
 Till all their fortunes went awry : 
 
 Then from those peaceful, hoary walls 
 Grim ruin drew him near its thralls. 
 
 '^But he had yearned to teach the vv'ay 
 
 To Christ and heaven ; and sought it now. 
 His Master's yoke upon him lay; 
 
 He took and loved th' evangel's vow, 
 With chastened ardor on his brow. 
 
 '^ Meanwhile, impassioned cares he knew; 
 For plighted troth had triumphed long 
 Between him and a maiden true ; 
 
 And now, amidst Misfortune's throng, 
 He deemed that dea.r affiance wrong. 
 
 " Howbeit, her loyal heart forbade 
 
 All thoughts of change — or loved him more. 
 His silence pained her ; till, afraid 
 And grieved, he sang this tender lore, 
 Her happier moments to restore : 
 
14 
 
 MARGAREE, 
 
 "Thy breast, where truths and beauties live, 
 From pain I'd shield, not pain would give. 
 
 My gentle girl I 
 I would not clasp with reckless hand 
 The blushing rose, or lily bland, 
 Nor mar thy joys ; but all expand, 
 
 My gentle girl 1 
 
 "Chide not my silence, lady fair ; 
 My bosom speaks, for thou art there,, 
 
 My gentle girl ! 
 An unseen presence with his dart 
 Has graved thy image in my heart, 
 And made thee of myself a part, 
 
 My gentle girl ! 
 
 "My soul, though sometimes tossed and driven, 
 Still lives for thee, as thine for heaven. 
 
 My gentle girl ! 
 And thou, in thy calm goodness blest. 
 Wilt soothe the mind erewhile distrest, 
 And lead me more to perfect rest, 
 My gentle girl ! 
 
MARGAREE, 
 
 "O gravest office known of men, . 
 
 To show where seeming gains are loss ; 
 To bring dead souls to life again 
 Before the wonders of the cross ! — 
 Where other glories fade as dross. 
 
 ''And now the village pastor's romid 
 
 He took through Densor's wide domain; 
 His presence in each home was found 
 And welcomed ; and the sacred strain 
 He taught, his life taught o'er again. 
 
 '' Anon, yon antique parsonage 
 
 Received his gentle girl^ his bride ; 
 Where they might dwell from youth to age j 
 But ah ! e'en 'midst rejoicings wide, 
 His mission ended, and he died. 
 
 '■• Thence tenderest kindness gathered round 
 The trembling widow young and lone ; 
 Whose anguish breathed no voice or sound ; 
 But sweetly won that solemn tone 
 Which comes from opening heaven alone. 
 
 15 
 
i6 MARGAREE. 
 
 "So time passed by; but when the snows 
 And storms of winter vexed the air, 
 She fomid her long and blest repose ; 
 And Margaree, her infant fair, 
 Was welcomed to the mansion there. 
 
 ''And there through happiest years she bloomed, 
 Adorned, accomplished, as their own : 
 Saw other vales and hills that loomed 
 In far-off climes ; till — woman grown — 
 As of their lineage she was known. 
 
 "Through old baronial halls she moved 
 With winsome presence, loved of all ; 
 An azure charm around her roved — 
 A beauty, like th' auroral call 
 To listening birds when leaflets fall. 
 
 " When mystic mistletoe was hung; 
 
 When log of Yule, and wassail-bowl. 
 And festive mirth, and Christmas song, 
 Gave cheer and pathos to the soul, — 
 She roamed like radiance through the whole. 
 
AIARGAREE. 
 
 ''In oaken rooms, where relics rare 
 And suits of armor hang beside 
 Their wearers' full-length portraits there, 
 As once they looked in jousts of pride, 
 Or in old wars the foe defied, — 
 
 ''There have I seen in days gone by 
 The young and beauteous Margaree 
 Survey the scenes with thoughtful eye, 
 And wistfully inquire of me 
 More of each relic's history, 
 
 "That battle-axe through Crecy passed; 
 That riven helmet took its blow 
 In Agincourt, — the warrior's last. 
 
 Which laid him, fiercely fighting, low. 
 Whilst instant vengeance smote his foe. 
 
 "Those faded pennons graced the train 
 Of Henry in the field of gold ; 
 And regal trophies, from the reign 
 And strife of 'rival roses,' told 
 What lore those heirlooms could unfold. 
 
 2* 
 
 17 
 
1 8 MARGAREE. 
 
 ''Alas ! I walk those mansions now, 
 As in my office walk I may ; 
 And thoughts of her my spirits bow, 
 Or sometimes in the moon's pale ray 
 They brighten midnight to mid-day. 
 
 "Soon worthiest suitors sought her hand, 
 Until a rumor told that one — 
 A youthful ruler of the land — 
 
 Had her fond heart and promise won : 
 And now, with every morning sun, 
 
 ''Glad sounds of preparation rose, 
 And hailed the lover's bridal day; 
 Howbeit our hearts forgot repose, 
 When here he came, in joy's array. 
 To take fair Margaree away. 
 
 "Yet, o'er the lawn and old oak shade. 
 
 And o'er the bounteous feast and cheer, 
 On lines of rural tables laid, 
 
 With games and pastimes gathering near,- 
 Beyond all these, in prospect clear, 
 
MARGAREE. . ^^ 
 
 ''The lovers gazed, so blest and true, 
 That in new life, through vistas fair, 
 They saw all Eden, in the view 
 
 Of that dear home they soon would share, 
 in flowery meads embosomed there. 
 
 ''Could blessedness like this remain. 
 
 So full, so crowned of earth and heaven, 
 What would the soul aspire to gain 
 In other worlds? Oh, kindly given, 
 That oft our fondest joys are riven. 
 
 "And yet, how sometimes joys endure ! 
 The lovers heard a yeoman sing 
 One eventide, in woods obscure ; 
 
 And each did smile and closer cling, 
 As thus he made the welkin ring : 
 
 "I met my dear Freena at dawning of day, 
 But changed unto me was her word and her way ; 
 'Why, Freena/ I cried, 'shall I hie from your view?' 
 She sadly replied, 'I don't care if you do.' 
 
20 MARGAREE. 
 
 " 'Nay, come to me, dearest ! What is it has stirred 
 The plumage and voice of my sweet little bird ? 
 Last night I had dreams, and they all were of you; 
 But these I'll conceal' — 'I don't care if you do.' 
 
 '' 'Why, Freena, my Freena, the stars are all fair, 
 Though hidden by vapors that sail in the air ; 
 And thou in thy clouds art in loveliness true; — 
 I'll love thee the more' — ' I don't care if you do.' 
 
 " ' I saw on my way two young lambkins at play. 
 As down o'er the meadows and streams they did stray ; 
 And oh, how they loved ! — ^just as I love you ; 
 Shall I take you to see?' — 'I don't care if you do.' 
 
 " 'And I saw the old church, whose vane in the sky 
 Was beckoning to me ; and my heart did reply, 
 "I come, soon I come, with my Freena so true;" 
 Oh, go with me, Freene !' — 'I don't care if I do.' 
 
 "And thus were united my Freena and I ; 
 Nor birds when their songs fill the halls of the sky. 
 Nor lambkins at play, are more happy and true ; — 
 And we smile as we say, — 'I don't care if you do.' " 
 
PART SECOND. 
 
PART SECOND. 
 
 Ah ! are there magi in the mind ? 
 That mass of spirit^ does it hold 
 
 Council with spirits more refined, 
 As with their awful scrolls miroUed 
 They darkly read, ' ' Beware ! Behold ! ' ' 
 
 No, 'tis not magi; winds divine 
 Waft glimpses from events to be, 
 
 And show of joy the bright ensign, 
 Or wave the gloomy heraldry 
 Of woes, from which we cannot flee. 
 
 And now full well fair Margaree knew 
 How all conspired to make her blest. 
 
 On mighty wings the moments flew. 
 And calmed each impulse of mirest 
 That came and passed, a lonely guest. 
 
 (23) 
 
24 
 
 MARGAREE. 
 
 But soon more thronging tumults came; 
 Soon prescience and mysterious fear. 
 
 She forward looked, but not the same ; 
 She saw a shadowy hand appear 
 And draw sepulchral portals near. 
 
 Majestic piles in slow decay; 
 Deserted temples, where of yore 
 
 Were solemn pomp and festal day ; 
 
 Scenes where dumb stillness broodeth o'er 
 Departed throngs that come no more ; 
 
 And dim old woods and mountain glooms 
 
 Familiar to her spirits grew ; 
 And oft she roamed amidst the tombs, 
 
 Or with her lover stood to view 
 ■ The pensive stars and depths of blue. 
 
 Once, on a warm autumnal day, 
 
 When orient splendors charmed the air. 
 
 They sat embowered alone, away ; 
 And now she told, as if in prayer. 
 The thoughts that tracked her everywhere. 
 
MARGAREE. 35 
 
 Far off, beneath a southern sky, 
 
 Old Ocean heaved, and sails were seen ; 
 
 And singing larks ascended high. 
 
 And hung like tuneful specks between 
 The rainbow-clouds that crowned the scene. 
 
 *'Seest thou," she said, and sadly smiled, 
 '' How all things to successors bend ? 
 Methinks these leaves sing dirges wild. 
 As now a listening ear I lend, 
 x\nd feel the cadence of their end. 
 
 ''Thy generous nature will not chide 
 
 -Thoughts which the world would weakness 
 deem ; 
 Thou lovest me, and by thy side — 
 Forgetful of my God — I seem 
 Lost in a too delicious dream. 
 
 ''Yet, think thou, what if 'twere decreed 
 That one on earth we may not be ? 
 Perhaps thy heart or mine must bleed : 
 'Twill be for good — not now to see. 
 But known through all eternity. 
 3 
 
26 MARGAREE. 
 
 ''To SOW in tears, and reap in joy; 
 
 To take the cross, and find the crown : 
 This, this our souls may well employ; 
 But yet I shrink as from its frown. 
 Whilst tenderest mercy lays me down ; 
 
 ''Lays me in shades, from which are seen 
 The wings, indeed, of brighter day : 
 But seas of distance intervene ; 
 
 We wander towards a twilight gray. 
 We sunder in the mists away. 
 
 "Oh, sorrows come ! Too well I feel 
 Their heralds have already come : 
 We know not what our thoughts reveal ] 
 I look, but find no marriage plume ; 
 I sink beneath a cypress gloom. ' ' 
 
 "Why speaks my Margaree thus?" he cried. 
 "Where is thy wonted spirit? — where 
 
 • The sunshine of my beauteous bride ? 
 Oh, let not fears thy soul ensnare, 
 Nor strew thy orange flowers in air ! 
 
MARGAREE. 27 
 
 ''Come, let us climb yon mountain-brow; 
 
 There winds of heaven will bring thee calm, 
 And strength shall come, — so absent now, — 
 And every breeze will chant a psalm, 
 And kiss thy cheek, and own it balm." 
 
 '' Ah ! let us stay. My joys," she sighed, 
 "And fears still come; and well I know 
 That bliss and bane are oft allied ; 
 And my cup fills ; my joys o'erflow; 
 And w^ake presaging signs of wo. 
 
 ''For lo ! 1 seem constrained to hold 
 
 Converse with friends beyond the sky. 
 In morning's hovering clouds of gold 
 They seem to come ; then grouping, fly. 
 And beckon me up — up on high. 
 
 "And still where lines of portraits bound 
 Our echoing halls, I pace and see 
 Each dusky visage watch me round ; 
 Their eager eyes converge on me. 
 Till all seems lost but heaven and thee. 
 
28 MARGAREE. 
 
 "And as heaven's volume claims my care, 
 Its pages all aglow I find ; 
 And solemn halos tremble where 
 
 It pleads, with warnings intertwined, 
 '■ Set not on earthly things thy mind.' 
 
 ''In dreams I walked, beneath the moon, 
 Yon churchyard ; and a vision near 
 Murmured, 'Prepare thyself, for soon, 
 Prepared — by all to souls most dear — 
 Or unprepared, thou must come here.' 
 
 "The waning leaves, and wending days. 
 And wailing winds, admonish me. 
 My soul meanders in the maze 
 Of fears that thine I may not be : 
 Oh, come no thoughts of change to thee !" 
 
PART THIRD. 
 
PART THIRD. 
 
 'Tis not time for leaflet falling 
 O'er old mansions ancestorial ; 
 
 Grasses green are yet enthralling 
 Every churchyard's gray memorial— 
 Wait awhile ! 
 
 Wait ye chanting winds of Autumn ; 
 Bring not yet a wintry spoil. 
 
 Let not life too early languish ; 
 
 Let not rosy scenes be blighted ; 
 Come not now, oh, pain and anguish ! 
 Startled terrors, hopes benighted- 
 Wait awhile ! 
 See ! a bridal train is coming 
 To the old cathedral pile. 
 
 (31) 
 
32 
 
 MARGAREE. 
 
 But lo ! Suddenly it lingers — 
 
 Halts — recedes; the heavens darken. 
 
 Hushed are the glad notes of singers, 
 And to wailing strains we hearken — 
 Wait awhile ! 
 
 Wait, weird shadows, 'tis but noonday; 
 Let the full meridian smile. 
 
 Ere the revolving moon had passed 
 Within the arc which was to view 
 
 Fair Margaree's bridal, storms were cast 
 Along the hopes her dear ones knew : 
 Howbeit she more celestial grew. 
 
 Oh, solemn period, when the soul, 
 
 From heights of Time, looks o'er the Past, 
 
 And turns to hear the billows roll. 
 Like anthems, in the Future vast. 
 And knows that there 'tis hastening fast. 
 
MARGAREE. 33 
 
 Pale on her bed she lapsed away 
 Swiftly, yet with unclouded mind ; 
 
 And dawnings of immortal day 
 
 Threw mundane grandeurs all behind, 
 As life with higher Life entwined. 
 
 She heard transcending voices call 
 
 From bending worlds more bright than this ; 
 She saw the pearly gate and wall — 
 
 The crystal domes and homes of bliss — 
 
 The universe metropolis. 
 
 And now there came across her thought 
 A gentle presence, gliding there 
 
 From years that she remembered not. 
 
 We heard her breathe, in sleep or prayer, 
 ^"^Oh, mother, take me to your care." 
 
 Meanwhile her lover, — like the man 
 
 Who sees his priceless argosy 
 Wrecked near his home, — aghast, and wan^ 
 
 And lost, he wandered silently. 
 
 As though to shun his misery. 
 
34 
 
 MARGAREE. 
 
 So the poor, banished exile long 
 
 Turns from cold landscapes, dim and strange, 
 
 Where yet his life must pass ; the throng 
 Of raptures gone, his thoughts derange. 
 And hide awhile the dreary change. 
 
 Ah, with what looks of tenderness 
 
 She held him near her! "Grief is thine, 
 
 And grief is mine o'er thy distress; 
 Yet canst thou not," she said, '' resign 
 Thy human will to will Divine ? 
 
 '•Thy Margaree must go indeed 
 
 To other scenes, and thou wilt know 
 The loneliness of hearts that bleed ; 
 Yet, then, forget not in thy wo 
 Thy God will never from thee go. 
 
 ''Live thou for Him. So shalt thou find 
 Thy peace will like a river be ; 
 And, perhaps, in the deep Future shrined 
 There is a home for thee and me : 
 A bliss which even now I see. 
 
MARGAREE. 
 
 • 
 ''My goal is near, — near; where art thou? 
 
 I enter waters dark and cold ; 
 
 Dear Saviour, oh, be with me now ! 
 
 He comes ! The waves away are rolled : 
 
 My Shepherd leads me to his fold." 
 
 Just on the marge where Autumn meets 
 Old Winter, and resigns to him 
 
 The rolling months, — and Winter greets 
 The rustling leaves, — a specter dim 
 Came, like a silent seraphim, 
 
 And touched pale Margaree as she lay; 
 And w^hilst the sun sank from the sky. 
 
 On twilight airs she passed away. 
 
 Then darkness came, and winds that sigh, 
 And gloom and grief to every eye. 
 
 Wealth which no boundary knew was there ; 
 Love, skill, and grandeur wooed her stay; 
 
 But all v/ere light as summer air; 
 And as her spirit winged away. 
 They learnecf how frail, how vain are they. 
 
 35 
 
36 
 
 MARGAREE. 
 
 Upon th' appointed bridal morn 
 
 No marriage peal rang through the air ; 
 
 One ponderous bell gave sounds forlorn — 
 Long, muffled sounds — as friends did bear 
 Their Margaree to the churchyard there. 
 
 They came from all the region round, 
 And mourned the loved and loving one ; 
 
 And thus their words grew more profound : 
 '^ It must be blest where she has gone ; 
 It must be glory she has won." 
 
 Old elms and oaks strewed thick and fast 
 Dead foliage round her funeral train : 
 
 And whilst we stood in numbers vast, 
 We heard afar the roaring main 
 And gathering storms of night again. 
 
 Careering clouds rose from the waves. 
 Like startled armies roused from rest ; 
 
 Yet gilding sunbeams bathed the graves. 
 And seemed to lead along the v/est 
 Through gorgeous skies to kingdoms blest. 
 
37 
 
 MARGAREE. 
 
 We left her where the ivied tower 
 Seems ever somber watch to keep 
 
 O'er all its tombs; wiiere rank and power 
 Calmly with humble yeomen sleep, 
 And hearts alike o'er either weep. 
 
 There nevermore the Sabbath breeze 
 On hallowed airs her hymnings bore ; 
 
 And midst responsive litanies, 
 
 Wherein her soul was wont to soar, 
 We heard her gentle voice no more. 
 
 When to the poor afflictions came, 
 
 No more she cheered them, morn or even ; 
 
 No more they heard her breathe the Name, — 
 '^ Above all names in earth or heaven," — 
 And tell of joys and sins forgiven. 
 
 Fair virgin bands long strewed her grave 
 With flowers, that seemed like them to grieve. 
 
 Time passed ; and still her story gave 
 A charm to many a winter's eve. 
 Which even now I lingering leave. 
 4 
 
38 MARGAREE. 
 
 And still, through yonder stately pile, 
 Whilst strains of worship rise and fall, 
 
 The storied windows tint each aisle, 
 And robe a tablet on the wall, 
 That tells her name;, her worth to all. 
 
 And he, her mourning lover, he 
 
 Went forth to honors large and high, 
 
 But ne'er forgot his Margaree j 
 
 And Avhen full many years went by, 
 He sang this song with tear-filled eye 
 
 "I see thee still, as in a dream, 
 
 Margaree. 
 I am changed, but thou dost seem 
 
 The same to me, — 
 The same sweet being, bright and fair. 
 With beaming eyes and auburn hair. 
 That once did my young heart ensnare, 
 
 Margaree. 
 
 "For pure, primeval charms were thine, 
 Margaree, 
 Expressing innocence divine 
 So beauteously. 
 
MARGAREE. 
 
 That other maidens loved to bear 
 Garlands to thee of flowerets rare, 
 And owned thee fairest of the fair, 
 Margaree. 
 
 '^ Clear, wandering waters, balmy gales, 
 
 Margaree ', 
 Calm, moonlight walks ; and tender tales 
 
 I told to thee. 
 These trooping to my mind return ; 
 My fancies glow and feelings yearn : 
 'Tis o'er ! and I again do mourn, 
 
 Margaree. 
 
 ''Thou wast a flower that faded soon, 
 
 Margaree ; 
 A star, that waned before night's noon 
 
 Did come to thee. 
 Admiring eyes were strained to know 
 The heavenly light thou didst bestow, 
 And wept that thou so soon must go, 
 
 Margaree. 
 
 39 
 
40 
 
 MARGAREE. 
 
 ''I will not ask why wert thou born, 
 
 Margaree ? 
 Why from our zenith thou didst turn, 
 
 And soaring flee ? 
 I wait to know, as I am known, ^ 
 Wherefore, when heaven on earth was shown. 
 Even then the angels took their own 
 
 Margaree ? 
 
 "Yet thou didst leave with lingering pace, 
 
 Margaree ; 
 Death warned thee to his cold embrace. 
 
 And whispered thee. 
 That though our hopes were firm and high. 
 And health encharmed thy form and eye. 
 Still change, some solemn change was nigh, 
 
 Margaree. 
 
 "With thee the dead did converse hold, 
 Margaree, 
 In musings, which thou sometimes told 
 In tears to me. 
 
MARGAREE. 
 
 Ancestral portraits beckoning seemed ; 
 Refulgent choirs around thee streamed; 
 Till plains of heaven upon thee gleamed, 
 Margaree. 
 
 "Pale, withered leaflets sought the ground, 
 
 Margaree, 
 And wheeled in circles round and round 
 
 All mournfully; 
 The ivy darkened on the wall ; 
 Birds heard a distant summer-call. 
 And flew, like thee, at Autumn fall, 
 
 Margaree. 
 
 "Joys are now thine beyond compare, 
 Margaree. 
 Thy harp and song ascend in air 
 Where angels be; 
 
 Thy guileless heart, and thoughtful brov/. 
 And 'frequent orisons, which thou 
 Didst love, receive rich guerdon now, 
 Margaree. 
 
 4* 
 
 41 
 
42 
 
 MARGAREE. 
 
 '^I still remain, and cares are mine, 
 
 Margaree ; 
 Yet, as I weakly would repine, 
 
 I think of thee. 
 Then halcyon scenes we trod of yore, 
 Thoughts that with young romance ran o'er, 
 And all blest things thou dost restore, 
 
 Margaree. 
 
 "Yes, for a moment all returns, 
 
 Margaree ; 
 Again young love triumphant burns, — 
 
 My love for thee. 
 And still that Past my soul enthralls ; 
 I stand like one in haunted halls, 
 Where more than echoes walk the walls, 
 
 Margaree. 
 
 ''Oh, withered joys ! Where shall I find 
 Margaree, 
 Those choral raptures of the mind 
 I knew with thee ? 
 
MARGAREE. 
 
 High places claim me as their own, 
 In circling splendors I am known, 
 Yet inly sigh, 'Alone! alone 1' 
 Margaree. 
 
 ''Ah, leave me never! Shouldst thou go, 
 
 Margaree, 
 The death in life I'd ever know; 
 
 I could not see 
 Ethereal skies or Eden bowers. 
 The soul, benumbed in all its powers, 
 Would drooi^ away through days and hours, 
 
 Margaree. 
 
 ''Thou wilt not leave me. Thou wilt come, 
 
 Margaree. 
 Yet oft from thy resplendent home. 
 
 Where angels be, 
 I'll feel thee near, with guardian care. 
 Like some low, blest, adoring prayer. 
 That soars in light and draws me there, 
 
 Margaree. ' ' 
 
 43 
 
44 
 
 MARGAREE. 
 
 '* Farewell my theme !" the old man cried 
 ^^The sun and evening star sink low. 
 Methinks thy patience long is tried ; 
 Yet, as thy footsteps homeward go, 
 And ere in dreams thy fancies flow, 
 
 ''Think thou 'tis well that sometimes here 
 The meekly good and blest we see ; 
 And when thy days be dark and drear. 
 Still think what light shall always be 
 For souls that love like Margaree."