RETROSPECTION.

I'M thinking of ages ago, dear,

And all that has happened since then,

When we studied as school-girls together

And laughed at those creatures, the men.

They said we were fond of flirtation,

And at best were two heartless coquettes! -

How blind is society's wisdom,

How quickly it smiles, or it frets!

We grew up in friendship together,

The world called us pleasing and fair,

It spoke of your elegant manners,

And talked of my affable air!

But alas! what are beauty and manners

Compar'd with a heart that's content?

They please for a moment, but later

Their loss we but little repent.

We both had our lovers devoted

Who pledged us their promises sure, -

We loved, and in loving were happy,

Though I knew I must always be poor.

Perchance I then envied your riches

And thought you more lucky than I, -

I know now that wealth and contentment

No longer in unison lie!

You wedded the man you had chosen,

Were happy, and are even yet;

My love, like a peach-bloom in spring-time

Was chilled - but I cannot forget!

My mother, poor soul, was ambitious

For me to wed out of our sphere,

And never a suitor would please her

Who had but five thousand a year.

So I married old Reginald Graham,

Whom I loved not, but could not reject,

He fifty or more, and I twenty,

How could I do more than respect?

He's always been faithful and tender

And never has made a complaint,

He never has chided my coldness,

And never has bound with restraint.

He heaps me with riches and jewels,

We drive in our carriage and four,

The world as we pass call me lucky,

'Tis wealth that is beggar'd at core.

The world, which is shallow and canker'd,

So hasty to praise or condemn,

How blind to suppose a life-sorrow

Can be conjur'd away by a gem!

And he - whom I worshipped at twenty,

Who plighted himself to be mine,

Who thought I was heartless and fickle,

And left him, in riches to shine, -

Ah! had he but known my affliction,

My sorrow akin to despair,

Perhaps then he had not upbralded

And made my lot harder to bear!

For at night when the children are sleeping,

And Reginald sits by my side,

I find the tears silently creeping

To my eyes, and strive them to hide.

And he tenderly asks me the reason

And fears that I may not be well, -

But that secret I never may mention,

To Reginald never may tell!

And so I suppose I must struggle

To the end of this terrible life,

Hiding all thoughts of what might be,

Performing the duties of wife!

'Tis thus that the world, base and cruel,

Repays us for anguish and loss;

It barters our hopes for a fortune,

And chides if we find it but dross.