EVA.

A cottage in a peaceful vale; A jasmine round the door; A hill to shelter from the gale; A silver brook before. Oh, sweet the jasmine's buds of snow, In mornings soft with May; Oh, silver-clear the waves that flow, Reflecting heaven, away! A sweeter bloom to Eva's youth Rejoicing Nature gave; And heaven was mirror'd in her truth More clear than on the wave. Oft to that lone sequester'd place My boyish steps would roam, There was a look in Eva's face That seem'd a smile of home. And oft I paused to hear at noon A voice that sang for glee; Or mark the white neck glancing down,— The book upon the knee.—