From the Knickcrbocker.
REMEMBRANCES.
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From the knlckcrbocker.


REMEAlBRANCES.
There's not a word thy lip hath trcathed,
A glance thine eyes hath given,
Which fingers not around my heart,
Like sunset hues in heaven.
And as the glory Of its light
Departs not with the day.
But lingering round the steps Of night,
Steals half its gloom away.
So when ufar from love and thee,
Reluctant depart,
Thy scraph voice still sweetly wakes
The echoes of my heart.
Like dcw-drop on the thirsting flower,
Like moon-b beam on the sea-
So, dearest! falls thy tender glance,
Thy look Of love, on me!