Love Thee, Dearest? Love Thee?

Love thee, dearest? love thee? Yes, by yonder star I swear, Which thro' tears above thee Shines so sadly fair; Tho' often dim, With tears, like him, Like him my truth will shine, And--love thee, dearest? love thee? Yes, till death I'm thine.

Leave thee, dearest? leave thee? No, that star is not more true; When my vows deceive thee, He will wander too. A cloud of night May veil his light, And death shall darken mine-- But--leave thee, dearest? leave thee? No, till death I'm thine.

MY HEART AND LUTE.

I give thee all--I can no more-- Tho' poor the offering be; My heart and lute are all the store That I can bring to thee. A lute whose gentle song reveals The soul of love full well; And, better far, a heart that feels Much more than lute could tell.

Tho' love and song may fail, alas! To keep life's clouds away, At least 'twill make them lighter pass, Or gild them if they stay. And even if Care at moments flings A discord o'er life's happy strain, Let Love but gently touch the strings, 'Twill all be sweet again!