FTOnl hhe .AHbsUn Journal. LAMENT OF THE WIDOWED INEBRIATE

BY DAUGANNE.
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BY DAUGANNE. .ef Pm thinking on thy smile, Mary-.

 Thy bright and trusting smiies= ." In the morning of our youth and love,

 Ere sorrow came-or guile; When thine arms were twined about my neck < - And mine eyes looked into thine, '' And the heart that throbbed for me alone, q.

 Was nestling close to mine! 'f .s I see full many a smile, Mary. t..r. On nyoung lips beaming bright; ..-. And many an eye of light and love ,-ss if . Is flashing in my sight; la..,..l v But the smile is not for my poor heart, And the eye is strange to me, sra-.t And loneliness comes Der my soul av.. When its memory turns to thee! I'm thinking on the night, Mary,

 The night of grief and shame, When with drunken ravings on my lips, To thee homeward came ;- O, the tear was in thine earnest eye,

 And thy bosom wildly heaved, Yet smile oflove was on thy cheek, Though the heart was sorely grieved But the smile soon left thy lips, Mary, .g 4'oP And thine eye grew dim and sad; For the tempter lured my steps'fro thee,

 And the wine-cup drove me mad From thy cheek the roses quickly fled,

 And thy ringing laugh was gone, Yet thy heart still fondly clung to me, '"'.a And still kept trusting on. o, my words were harsh to thee, Mary. For the wine-cup made me wild; y' And enid thee when thine eyes were sad,

 And cursed thee when they smiled. God knows loved thee even then.

 But the fire was in my brain. And the curse oEdrink was in my heart.

 To make me love a bane. .~ 'Twas pleasant home of ours, Mary,

 In the spring time of our life, When looked upon thy sunny face,

 And proudly called thee wife And twas pleasant when our children played

 Before our cottage-door :- T. But the children sleep with thee. Mary,

 l shall never see them more! Thou'rt resting in the ehurch-yard, no,s,

 And no stone is at thy head But the sexton knows drunkard's wife

 Sleeps in that lowly bed ;- And he says the hand of God, Mary,

 Will fall with crushing weight On the wretch who brought thy gentle life

 To its untimely fate! But he knows not of the broken heart pear within my breast, Or the heavy load of vain remorse,

 That will not let me rest: '-" He knows not of the sleepless nights,

 When dreaming of thy love, seem to see thine angel eyes,

 F Look coldiy from above. have raised the wine-cup in my hand,

 And the widest strains Eve sung, Till with the laugh of drunken mirth, The echoing air has wrung :-. But pale and sorrowing face looked out

 From tho gtirtering cup on me, And trembling whisper have heard

 That fancied, breathed by thee Thou art slumbering in the peaceful grave,

 And thy sleep is dreamless now, But the seal of an undyng griet

 Is on thy mourner's brow, And my heart is chill thine, Mary,

 For the joys of life are fled, And long to lay my aching breast

 With the cold and silent dead!