THE OAK TO THE IVY.

'Twas in my Spring of palmy gladness First I met thee, Ivy wife; Then my brow, untouched by sadness, Bloomed with regal-foliaged life; Proud my arms hung forth in blessing O'er thy trustful spirit dear, And my heart, 'neath thy caressing, Wore a Spring-dress all the year! Time wings on: my strength is fleeing, And my leafy beauties too; Still thou clings't around my being, Changeless—ever true.

Churlish Autumn hath uncrowned me, Still I feel thy fond embrace; Winter sad throws gloom around me: Sweet! thou smil'st up in my face; Spring arrives with flowery treasures, Summer skips by, sun-caressed; Yet thou, envying not their pleasures, Bloom'st upon my rugged breast. Time wings on: my strength is fleeing, And my leafy beauties too; Still thou cling'st around my being, Changeless—ever true.

Though my limbs grow old and weary, Trembling in the wintry air; And my life be dark and dreary— Still I feel that thou art near; Stripped of all my blossoms golden, 'Reft of stalwart forest pride— Sere and sallow, leafless, olden; Yet remain'st thou by my side. Time wings on: my strength is fleeing, And my leafy beauties too; Life-long cling'st thou round my being, Changeless—ever true.