Rise, Mary! meet me on the shore,
And tell our tale of sorrow o'er;
There must we meet to part no more -
Rise, Mary, rise!
Come, dearest, come! tho' all in vain;
Once more beside you summer main
We'll plight our hopeless vows again -
Unclose thine eyes.
My bark amidst the surge is toss'd,
I go, by evil fortunes cross'd,
My earthly hopes for ever lost -
Love's dearest prize.
But when thy hand is clasp'd in mine,
I'll laugh at fortune, nor repine;
In life, in death, for ever thine -
Then check these sighs.
They move a bosom steel'd to bear
Its own unwonted load of care,
That will not bend beneath despair -
Rise, dearest, rise.
Life's but a troubled dream at best;
These comes a time when grief shall rest,
Kind, faithful hearts shall yet be bless'd
'Neath brighter skies!
CHAPTER XVIII
A TRIP TO STONY LAKE
Oh Nature! in thy ever-varying face,
By rocky shore, or 'neath the forest tree,
What love divine, what matchless skill, I trace!
My full warm heart responsive thrills to thee.
Yea, in my throbbing bosom's inmost core,
Thou reign'st supreme; and, in thy sternest mood,
Thy votary bends in rapture to adore
The Mighty Maker, who pronounced thee good.
Thy broad, majestic brow still bears His seal;
And when I cease to love, oh, may I cease to feel.
