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Observer, Volume 7, Issue 337, 23 May 1885, Page 8

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I look upon that face, but while -, It seems ao bright and fair, I ask me if that sunny emile Is wont to linger there ? I ask me if thy bosom's heave Hides not a heart that's doomed to grieve And wither in despair ? I ask if peace and joy can be With beings desolate like thee. I knew thee not, thou fallen flower, While virtue marked thy growth ; I knew thee not in thy bright hour Of purity and truth. I knew thee not, till treacherous ways Had dimmed the sunshine of thy days, The freshness of thy youth ; And thee— l met thee in my shame, Without a friend, -without a name. An outcast from thy happy home, A blighted, joyless thing, j Thy journey onward to the tomb A rayless ■wandering. Uncheered by hope thy bosom heaves, « Yet, like the rose's scattered leaves, Some sweets still round thee cling 1 , And dimly through the ruina shine. Like ivy on the shattered pine. There's beauty still upon thy brow, And kindness in thy heart ; That smile is -with thee, even now, All hapless as tliou art. But sorrow's wave too soon will chase The light of beauty from thy face, • >„_ And thou wilt then depart ; ,/ As bends the lily to the blast, '.. Unknown, unloved, thou'lt sink at last. God cheer tbco on that awful day, For none will watch thy bed, None sigh to see thee pass away, Nor grieve for thee when dead. None mark the lonely, silent spot, When, all forsaken and forgot, Reclines thy lovely head. The turf, alas I will soon be green \ „._" '-„_ And few will know that thou hast been,". " * [Tennessee Democrat, Columbia, Tennessee, July 20th, 1837.