Even the mists were not sad

 If your soft hand-clasp I had.

 Hearts sing, though skies mourn and grieve,

 All weather’s fair

 If you’re there!

 Someday a home there shall be,

 Love shall be sun of it, sweet!

 Joy shall be full and complete—

 Sound of small voices and feet;

 While, like the sunshine, for me,

 You light up life—

 You—my wife!

BEFORE PARTING.

surely is the hour come for farewell,

 Now, with the lessened light and darkened days.

 Who now would tread the wild hill’s pathless ways?

 We found so fair when Spring and Summer’s spell

 Made blind our hearts this parting to foretell.

 Yet why, while wan and wintry sunlight stays

 On perished gold of Autumn fields, delays

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