Monongalia Mirror

Original Poetry.

From the Messenger and Recorder.

To Miss A. M. K*****.

I'm thinking of old times, Vina,
Of the school days long gone by.
Ne'er was a gayer heart than thine,
Never a merrier eye.
Never through beauty's rosy lips,
So from silvery laughter came;
And, Vina, ne'er since that glad time
Has laughter sounded the same.
A sparkling flood of joyousness,
It gushed from thy light heart;
I almost hear its music now,
Though we are far apart.
Yet, so apart are we, Vina,
For they say that thou art dead!
And tears are in my eyes, Vina,
Tears waiting to be shed.
The same blue sky bends o'er us now,
The green hills are the same,-
As when we met in those bright days
A gay, light hearted band.
There's many a weary, aching head,
Would gladly rest from care;
There's many a burdened spirit longs,
Heaven's blessed peace to share.
Yet death has left them in their gloom,
And laid his hand on thee,-
So full of life and love and hope
So young-and fair and free.
Ne'er to thy dimpled cheek will come,
Blushes or smiles again;
Ne'er to that gentle, loving heart,
One thrill of joy or pain.
The light of thy blue eye is quenched,
And o'er thy shrouded breast-
The hands that mine so oft have touched,
Are mockly laid to rest.
Thus year by year death steals away
Some dearly cherished one;
'Till of that young and happy group,
The most, the best are gone,
Thus one by one they enter in,
The Father's home on high.
Oh! many a jewel loved and lost,
There shineth deathlessly.
And dearer grows that blessed home,
And nearer beams the light-
That streams from its resplendent gates,
Across this dreary night.

M.