(Macmillan'S Magazine, May 1868.) A Smile Because The Nights Are Short! And Every Morning Brings Such Pleasure Of Sweet Love-Making, Harmless Sport: Love, That Makes And Finds Its Treasure; Love, Treasure Without Measure. A Sigh Because The Days Are Long! Long Long These Days That Pass In Sighing, A Burden Saddens Every Song: While Time Lags Who Should Be Flying, We Live Who Would Be Dying.