that Hope's fair views the while Should smile like you, and perish as they smile!

The path is weary, the desert wide, And Sorrow stalks by the pilgrim's side Oh for a draught of Hope's crystal tide To cheer the parch'd and fainting one, Until his toilsome race be run, And the bright mirage fall from the sky, Displaced by a sweet reality.

Now within her ear is ringing Drearily hope's funeral knell, And the night wind wild is singing Mournfully, the word farewell.

'Tis something if at last, Though only for a flash, a man may see Clear-eyed the future as he sees the past, From doubt, or fear, or hope's illusion free.

Condemn'd to hope's delusive mine, As on we toil, from day to day, By sudden blasts, or slow decline, Our social comforts drop away.

Yet must we shed them, barren though they be, Though bloom nor burden answer as they flow, Though no sun shines that our sad eyes can see To throw across their fall hope's radiant bow.

He fainted, fell back, seemed dead already, and her voice and touch brought him to life, happy for an instant, hoping still and living only by the beating of hope's wings.

FAUST and WAGNER FAUST Loosed from their fetters are streams and rills Through the gracious spring-tide's all-quickening glow; Hope's budding joy in the vale doth blow; Old Winter back to the savage hills Withdraweth his force, decrepid now.

One way or another, the Liberty Theater got a lot of free advertising from the case, and I believe Miss Hope's salary was raised.

Thus speaks the heart which cold disgust invades, When time instructs, and Hope's enchantment fades; Through life's wide stage, from sages down to kings, The puppets move, as art directs the strings: Imperious beauty bows to sordid gold, Her smiles, whence heaven flows emanent, are sold; And affectation swells th' entrancing tones, Which nature subjugates, and truth disowns.

Baird's division on the right, and governed by the oblique direction of the ridge, approached the enemy; Hope's division, forming the centre and left, although on strong ground abutting on the Mero, was of necessity withheld, so that the French battery on the rocks raked the whole line of battle.

Then there was the reference to her own individual fate; and was it not through the self-medium she saw all these people in so strange a light?with Hope's lamp dashed down at her feet, and extinguished at the very moment when, by the communication of her father, she thought she had the means of recruiting it with a store of oil never to be exhausted till possession was accomplished.

yet that delicious hour Fell on my soul, like dewdrops on a flower Freshening and nourishing and making bright The plant, decaying less from time than blight, Flinging Hope's sunshine o'er the faint dim aim, Thy praise my motive, thine applause my fame.

As falls on closing flowers the lunar beam; What time in sickly mood, at parting day I lay me down and think of happier years; Of joys, that glimmered in Hope's twilight ray, Then left me darkling in a vale of tears.

The gentle beamings of that eye Have power to soothe each sorrow, While casting hope's refulgent dye, In glances, on to-morrow.

When half the horizon's clouded and half free, Fluttering between the dim wave and the sky Is hope's last gleam in man's extremity.

What sov'reign good shall satiate man's desires, Propell'd by hope's unconquerable fires?

But in the short time, little more than an hour and a half, which elapsed between Hope's first and second visit, some most unexpected and remarkable events took place.

Bartley had promised him this should not be; but among Hope's good qualities was a singular fidelity to his employers, and he was also a man who never broke his word.

She herself was sorry he had not waited for Mr. Hope's return before undertaking so serious a speculation.

This eulogy was interrupted by Mary putting a white hand and a perfect nose upon Hope's shoulder, and kissing the cloth thereon.

Unluckily, Hope's tool-basket was on the window-ledge, and Monckton drove a heavy nail obliquely through the bottom of the door, and it was immovable.

You are our nearest magistrate; the young lady told me at the pit mouth she is Mr. Hope's daughter.

There has been many a strange thing happened since you rode out of our stable last, but I wish you would go to the Colonel and let him tell you all; however, I suppose I may tell you so much as this, that your sweetheart is not Mary Bartley at all; she is Mr. Hope's daughter.

Both stood about two yards from Hope's side of the hall.