THE FAITHFUL ONE

The following poem was perhaps the fate of one who flew the famine.

Far away--Far away, to the land of the stranger,
A young maiden hastes,
Fearless of danger;
She has crossed the wide ocean,
And braved the dread billow,
In a far foreign land,
To repose on her pillow,
And dream of the days yet to come.

In the land of the "free,"
Far away to the westward,
She seeks a fond home
With the last of her kindred.--
Still onward she wanders--
Her young heart is broken,
Ah ! see, she is gazing
On a cherished love token,
From one in her late island home.

As lonely she journeys
O'er prairie and mountain,
Her thoughts still return
To that old gushing fountain,
Whose bright waters never
From fountain came purer,
Than those sweet vows she gave
To the youth who allured her,
And thus her soul murmurs alone.

"Farewell to thee, false one--
For happier I find me,
Than e'er thou can'st be
When thy memory reminds thee.--
Though my fond heart is breaking--
Alas! 'tis so now--
Still I love--Oh ! how dearly
I cherish that vow,
Which I joyfully gave for your own.

The cypress and laurel
Weep over the tomb,
Where this dear one reposes
In death's silent gloom;
'Twas the hand of a stranger
That closed her dark eyes.--
'Twas the ear of a stranger
Received her last sighs,
Breathed for one far away, now unknown.

Some false-hearted lover
Who lured to betray,
Had won her affections
In that isle far away,--
She died without leaving
One trace of his name,
But his false heart shall wither,
In sorrow and shame,
When he thinks of the wrong he has done.

W. LOUGHLIN,
Tanaghmore, July, 1849.

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