'MIDST the noise of merriment and
'Midst full many a sorrow, many
Charlotte, I remember, we remember thee,
How, at evening's hour so fair,
Thou a kindly hand didst reach us,
When thou, in some happy place
Where more fair is Nature s face,
Many a lightly-hidden trace
Of a spirit loved didst teach us.
Well 'tis that thy worth I rightly
That I, in the hour when first
While the first impression fill'd
Call'd thee then a girl both good and true.
Rear'd in silence, calmly, knowing
On the world we suddenly are thrown;
Hundred thousand billows round us sport;
All things charm us--many please
Many grieve us, and as hour on hour is stealing,
To and fro our restless natures
First we feel, and then we find each feeling
By the changeful world-stream borne
Well I know, we oft within us find
Many a hope and many a smart.
Charlotte, who can know our mind?
Charlotte, who can know our heart?
Ah! 'twould fain be understood, 'twould fain o'erflow
In some creature's fellow-feelings
And, with trust, in twofold measure know
All the grief and joy in Nature's
Then thine eye is oft around thee
But in vain, for all seems closed
Thus the fairest part of life is madly pass'd
Free from storm, but resting never:
To thy sorrow thou'rt to-day repell'd
By what yesterday obey'd thee.
Can that world by thee be worthy held
Which so oft betray'd thee?
Which, 'mid all thy pleasures and
Lived in selfish, unconcern'd repose?
See, the soul its secret cells regains,
And the heart--makes haste to close.
Thus found I thee, and gladly went to meet thee;
"She's worthy of all love!"
And pray'd that Heaven with purest bliss might greet thee,
Which in thy friend it richly hath