Part 14 — THOU’RT NOT ALONE.

Written on hearing a young lady exclaim, “Alas! I’m all alone!”

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BY N. CURTISS STINE.

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Thou’rt not alone—the greenwood’s shades are round thee,

When summer comes, with all her joyous train;

And playful winds at eve have often found thee,

And murmured in thine ear Hope’s sweetest strain.

Thou’rt not alone—each gaily tinted flower,

That smiling greets us on the dewy lea,

The painted clouds at sunset’s golden hour,

To me are friends, and should be so to thee.

Thou’rt not alone—the red stars gleaming o’er thee,

At midnight lone, with whispering voices tell,

Old tales of those who passed away before thee,

In brighter lands beyond the sun to dwell.

And when the robe of Autumn gaily shining,

With rainbow hues is o’er the forest thrown,

Go, list the winds among their boughs repining,

And learn on earth thou ne’er can’st dwell alone.

Thou’rt not alone—the shades of the departed,

On radiant wings are soaring softly by—

Thou can’st not see them, but the gentle hearted

To visit thee oft leave the azure sky.

What though the world in chasing flying Pleasure,

With icy heart should past thee coldly hie?

Look—look on high—thou hast a richer treasure,

Than all its gems and glittering dross can buy.