  When the harsh days of the winter Softened into early spring, And the birds—gay, feathered songsters— First commenced their carolling, Kindling in our hearts o’erflowing More of love than tongue can tell, Sweeter than the breath of morning Came our star-eyed Gabrielle. And our earth-worn hearts were gladdened As we gazed into her eyes,— Liquid mirrors, freshly tinted With the hues of paradise. Through the long days of the summer, Bound as with a magic spell, Warm and warmer in our bosoms Grew the love of Gabrielle. But, alas! the summer faded, And the autumn leaves grew sear, And our cherished household blossom Faded with the fading year. In the quiet grave we laid her; There, we trust, she sleepeth well; And we hope, when life is over, We shall meet our Gabrielle. |
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