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Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode. 1 2 3 4 5 6 MICRvXOPY RESOLUTION TEST CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 1.0 1^ IM 111112.5 2.8 H 3 2 1 3.6 11111^= 4.0 mil 2.0 1.8 ^ .APPLIED IfVUIGE 1653 East Main Street Rochester, New York 14609 USA (716) 482 -OJOO- Phone (716) 288-5989 -Fax ,^fe6£-i4;;si FLOWKliS BY THE WAYSIDE, A MISCELLANY (IF PROSE AND VEKSE. INCM IlINr, Parion Vomers, (iljc (OlK i)laii's Drsirc, fmious Prmorics, ^icgr of I'utliuoh), ^bscuf Jfritnbs. (tt. l!* BY tl: MARY E. II EH BERT. j^^ AiiM.nr „{ "^V.Iian lliirp'. "Sceue« in the life of a Halifax IVIlf",^' <L "Woman as she should be". &n. [ i^ "K "Rare i.s the heart to bear a flower, Tliut mi»,9t not wholly fall and fade. Where alien feelings, hour by hour. Spring up, beset, and oversha<le. Better a ehild of care and toil. To glorify some needy spot, Than in a gind redundant soil To pine neglected and forgot". — R. M. MitNBH. HALIFAX, N. S. PRINTED AT THE CITIZEN OFFICE. 1805. ^TN k/X^^ FLOWERS BY THE WAYSIDE, A MISCELLANY. OF PROSE AND VERSE, ' INCLUDING ilanon Somus, ^z <^lb Pun'. §z,\u, ^r«io«. 0anom., BY M^ MARY E. HEEBERT, Author of "^olian Harp", ..Scene, in tho Hfo of a Halifax BCle" "Woman as she should be", &c. "Rare is the heart to bear a flower. That must not wholly fall and fade, Where alien feelings, hour by hour, Spring up, beset, and overshade.' Better a child of care and toil. To glorify some needy spot, Than in a glad redundant soil To pine neglected and forgot." — R. M. MiLNEfl, HALIFAX, N. S. PRINTED AT THE CITIZEN OFFICE. 1865. (I PREFACE. In presenting another little Pamphlet to the public, the Author deems that a few words of explanation may not be misplaced. Its contents are the productions of leisure hours, extending ver different periods, and were composed as fancy, memory, or circumstances suggested the themes. Some of the pieces have been published in past years, in provincial papers,— but the larger portion were written and laid aside,— and are now for the first time before the public. The favorable notice her former publications have received has encouraged her again to venture forth into the domains of literature,— and she trusts that the unassuming flowers thus gathered, may be instrumental in instructing, cheering and comforting some weary toiler in life's rugged way. 11 I MARION SOMERS. A TRUE STORY. " How oft I feiir ttmt I shnll fail ; How oft my spirit sinlfw nnd faints; How oft dotli dark mistrust prevail, And faithless tremors ond con. ilaints." There was poverty in the homo of ivTarion Somcrs, struggling, vexatious, heart-wearing poverty, though none would have dreamed it who beheld that pretty cottage, embowered amid trees ; its casements covered with honev-suckle and multi-flora, and the little plot before the door redolent of mignonette ; where carnations vied in size and beauty with their neighbors the blush-rose, — and the rich pansy and double-balsam, and variegated sweet-william bloomed as gaily as in the gardens of opulent proprietors. The dew lay on the grass, sparkling in the early rays of the morning sun, like regal diamonds, and the cool refreshing breeze, fragrant with balmiest odors, swept into the open casement and rustled the leaves ofthe little bible Marion hadjust been perusing; and closing the much prized volume she laid it care- fully on the pretty table by the window, and leaning her head on her hand, began to think both soberly and sadly of the anticipated trials of the day just commenced. Had her sorrows been but fancied ones, the morbid 6 MARION SOMEES 1 i morning air miZ „ J° '?'""? f''''«'^''<'«'' of tho they were too^^al .^"'^ 'T "'""■=''''=<' "'™' ^nt comforters-Id 11" f^ '"T "™" '" «""'' «-«>«* oven the sight „f„„°™; "5 ""'"^^ « «•>« --, possessed no power ,„ ", '^"•''*' landscapes oi>ief.hieh';r:e:,7etT/„;^t^^^^^^^^^ Marion, or rather Mrs. Somers fo,.T "^ twenty five, she had been f" ^yt a^w^r^t bernrseZ ^I CT""^^^^^^^ or poverty, li:"^:^ ZtCZ:/ I'l ''T pride and indopendenw, of „, ""f "P'^"' and native you would have v^si d thard?:,-"'™'"^"' •"" ■nany a time, and admted the ne ""^ """"^ ""<' whieh presided over ita W. , ■""' """ *^'*'' guessed that the fa'r t-o.^ ' "'■»"«»""'». "or voiee and refined mrne'fp„rer; "T^ '^"^^ that ve,y day, deprived herS ot tit . "''^' '"''' bread and millt th«t ,","**''»* Portion of the repast, thattr ehiWre: ml.'^V^^'''^ "--""o bed. "«'" "o' go snpperless to a year previo:^"; C t'S tf "'f^ '"'°"' resided, eommeneed to puLh ! l ^ f' P'^""* whieh absorbed the sraal 7. •, "/''"^'y I'^Por, possession. "*?""' ''o had then in fun^dsbe':!m'ee':,lste'db:f''-7 ™""^^'^"'' ""' <"•» wife and two iittie ones were brougtiigrto To A TEUE STORY ty of the s of the Iiem, but ch sweet she was, tidscapes * burden t. scarcely e, could od have secrets native 3d; but ly and d tastf, its, nor sweet y, had, of the 3n-tide less to 's and about fesent )aper, on in It his shed, His > the gates of death by a raging epidemic, and scarcely had they recovered ere ho himself was prostrated by the same malady. During the interval an assistant managed, or rather mismanaged, the paper; subscribers were neglected; money collected and squandered,— and he aTOse from his sick bed involved in debt, with no means to satisfy his too importunate creditors, while want, if not absolute starvation, stood knocking for admittance at the door of their hitherto happy dwelling. As soon as Mr. Somers' returning health permitted, he hastened to visit those places in which many of his subscribers resided, aud thus endeavoured, by gathering in the pittance due, to retrieve, if posf-Mc, their condition. He had been gone two or o. .ee weeks ac the period our story commences, and one or two letters received by his anxious wife, seemed to afford little encouragement for the future. No wonder then that this sunny summer morning found Marion desponding, nay, almost despairing. Their supply of food was nearly exhausted, and the remittance hoped for from her husband had not yet arrived; while harsh creditors grew more and more impatient. The day wore on, all too swiftly, to many a joyous heart for whom it was laden with blessings ; but to her, oppressed by grief and anxious forebodings, it seemed to drag slowly away. Evening came at last,— and the birds sang their hymns of thanksgiving and nestled to repose ; her prattling little ones' voices were hushed in childhood's h I i MARION SOMERS sweet slumber and «f .i «%-other sa^ aIo„o *'^ ^— -red casement the -^ tiift: irzrr. '''-' - ^he .est around thif w ^ '* .^'athered anr? w ' mr.. • aroop nff form i ^ ' deepened mourning. ^ ^ ^^^m, clad in its garb of J^*or visions of ih^ k tho eiro«,-a„,i then as II ""'' ""'"'""xl with ttoywereinfr^.fri^^'/;^^' '•omemborod iow poor twelvemonth ago l,„j i,"""'"W''0,onefloGtm„ f«l%hth„d bTe'„X.7, ''' «■"*"« «'- buf '""■l^. and the voice ev.'" ""'"''"■tneB, of the -"-..waano^'r. rin7c^^.'° T"" ""-^ JVIy grief is selfish - sh. ^ ""^^"^ silence ^now ^ow supreme^' blest rr"'^'' "'^^^^^1 ^eel so deepl,. Yes, fbou b l ! '.' ^'°^^ ^^«-"ee I tV works follow thee Lr/'l^T^ ^°*^ ^est, and that refuge of the wea/v th ' ''^'" ^ ^^^^ ^tta n to ^«V;t, prepared ^^'27--- of unfailing ^«d then sadly she f J u '^''''^^^•" usefulness which in *^^ought of the r,j«n« . -;pian.,vS;:rrb:s^^''r'°™^--^^^ - H:r;r ht^ -~ '-c::^, -. A TRUE STORY 9 '^ casement the ^ in the west »nd deepened ^ Its garb of e trooping to present more rich promise « who might ckening and 'ii these she robbed with i how poor r adversity, one fleeting ? 8tar, but less of the Dsolo and "i silence, tor well I absence I rest, and attain to nnfaiJing p'ans of to mark ? cares, ■eutingj bat life ■ I>eath would perchance arrest her, ere her dc had scarce begun, Mrs. Somers forgot, for the time, that suffering as well as doing is often Heaven's high work, — and that " They also serve who only stand and wait", — and with tearful eyes and an oppressed heart, she sought her couch, scarcely relieved, even by the earnest petitions expressed more by groans than words, oifered at the footstool of heavenly grace. Sobbing she sank to sleep, and as she slept she dreamed that as she was sitting, despondingly musing over her condition, wondering whether, for one who had toiled so little in her Master's vineyard, Heaven's pearly gates would ever bo flung back, and the words of welcome fall on her ear, — as she raised her eyes, her mother stood before her, arrayed in garments of light; her countenance radiant with beauty, and gently inquired the cause of her deep depression. " Oh, Mother," she replied, hot tears falling fast from her eyes, " I fear I shall never reach the blissful land you now inhabit. The cares of life press heavily on my spirit, and my faith is very, very weak; earth is a weary wilderness and Heaven seems so distant. Surely " God hath forgotten and the Lord hath forsaken me." " He hideth his face so that I cannot behold him." " I strive to do his will but too often, alas ! fail utterly, and when I would raise my thoughts to heavenly themes, the trials strewn thickly in my daily path drag them down again to earth." '' My child," replied the Mother in solemn yet tender accents, " What doth the Lord thy God require of thee, — but to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God." ^^SION SOMEBS 10 ■^. "^'' VOMERS If I Jill i!- ^''lo first eilrer„„u- '"' the «i„„e,, ^-^ ^^""^^ Of the Sabbath bells h , ^'th a look of som^ ''"''' <""««» h,? R , ""' "le stamp of !„« ' ! '''"'^« every ]m„ ""'' tlo door of / ^ ""'' <"»n™anai,i " J'"* """-o *c^i.eZ-r '" '° '^^'-'Shrhte: ■It was not withm,+ •"'""i, so that hot, h'?^"'''"^ «4 ^tei":' t^' preparation. ^ ''*'' ''" little time ?1 '"" Thither had to, som ""'"'"'^d for ^io gladt hf ; '^" '■■' »''»■•«' Ta I 7™""?' "-d A TRUE STORY. 11 ^»i passage ol 'i beJis broke ' with their ' ^^bJe, and 'y calm and iment boro ^bt, eJosed wended a 'ureh over neared its ^* he had '"ghta on dress his ^ast few fi to his deed for ;*• steps, 'P, and ?hbourj ite, and' 'or her passed exquisite lines of one who " though dead yet speaketh" in reference to the varied needs of those who fi'equont the Sacred Fane — " What griefs that make no sign, That ask no aid but thine, Father of mercies to thine ear is known ; ****** And the fond aching lovp, Thy minister to move All the wrong heart by softening it to thee 1" The services proceeded as usual, and at length the text was commenced; but what was Mrs. Somers' astonishment to hear the very passage which she had dreamed the night before her mother had repeated to her. She trembled with the intensity of her emotion, but at length became more calm ; and as though an angel had spoken from heaven, listened, while with an eloquence that seemed almost inspired, ho expounded the passage. Never did more consoling words fail upon her car; BO suitable to her case, so fraught with richest encouragement; and she retired from the service with a light step, and a countenance beaming with hope and gladness, from which had fled the slightest shade of despondency. And still the blessed influences of that service continued throughout the day; it sweetened the very frugal repast, the last remnant of their scanty provision ; it cheered her solitary hours ; and she retired, with a thankful, hopeful heart, to rest, not doubting but that help and deliverance would come. 12 ^^^102. SOBERS, A TRrrr ' ^ ^^UE STORY ^^0"ght a weJoomn ""''^^ rewarded Th ones of nw . •^^sueoeedpr?*^^. "^^^^^'Uff, » or advers ty hnf *^*^edartnj^ , ^°:rgotten the Le]p ^^r* "^^^^ i^as JWrs % "^"^ «,^ -eed, and ofte^ IV'"''^^^'^" ^^eeived inT'^« she wi/I ^, 1 . *^niio cTatpfi,7i ^'^ time ■•iit. merev ' STORY :!!' ^}^ "sorrow ^ ^««d husband, '«^"t exigencies « fPeedy return ^dbefaJJeniiij^' ' tieir dwelJin-y . ^I'^^^'k, oloncly ^^•«- Somers ''^■^^d in time 3^erting to" it, ^^'es, "Who THE OLD MAN'S DESIRE. I stand upon the verge of time, And scan with eager eyes the sea, Whose turbid, dark, and sluggish waves, Divide my best beloved from me. A checkered pathway mine has been, With many a Bochim here and there, — * But ever at the darkest hour, God's angel, Mercy, hovered near. And love and friendship .sweetly came, To tread with me life's scmbre way ; Then flowery grew the steepest path. More radiant dawned each blissful day t They shared my griefs, till Sorrow's self Assumed a fairer face to me ; A.nd Peace and Joy, those heavenly guests, Dwelt 'neath their hallowed ministry. When, lo ! comiiiissioned from on high. An Angel stern appeared to view — " I claim them tor a fairer clime. Bid your beloved a long adieu." Wi 'I i A ^, ^"^ ^'^'gbt world 7? . '•awing near. » • i sigh too oft ^°; Oi. I. ee. „„„„,„ J /*""-« another C -^ see no ]ovpfj f„ ... ' , , ^^y """^y greet. SWl thinking of iW, *^' "° ■"">« 'Ml „„„ 0'. «'co„e voice 7:7''''' «a«, THE OLD MANS DESIRE. What raptures strange shall thrill my soul As wide the pearly gates expand ; How shall I shout " Safe home at last," When once within those walls I stand. Loud shall I strike my golden harp, Joyful my song of praise shall be, To Him whose guiding hand I own. To Him who gave himself for me. There shall my spirit sweetly blend With kindred spirits loved and blest, — And parting, that made earth so drear. Shall never mar that perfect rest. 16 J. y spring, i, ,„.: ^ """^''«'"'."-.fooK». ^""fiedi^,. . ""ast. ""^ "1 the fettled nn ^ ^'-'nt^ast to fj. ^^^^ir m^^. '^^^sters PEECIOUS MEr DRIES. 17 ES, Joy, "'^ caro,-_ ' ss fined, '" win, Tu^'"'^ and "'^^^ i^ the *^^o da,vi, ■^« streak strange ^ni'mai ^grant mo to cxploro its Avoodliirul retreat ; the grassy lawn is rapidly assuminjir its brightest emerald hue; tho clambering jessamino by tho window bas put forth unnumbered hues; the lilac will soon burst into bloom, and fling itm odors to tho passing breeze; the white-flowered hawthorn will again unite as of yore the busy multitude of favored bees to sip its sweetness, and the birch, tho poplar, tho elm and mountain-ash, through whose leafless branches so lately tho wintry wind " made music, sighing as it wont," shall resume, in honor of sweet summer, their fairest robes, their young softly tinted leaves fanned by her gentle zej^hyrs, and glistening beneath the reflection of her radiant smile. At such a season the heart awakens to now life. There are times when listlossness overpowers us. when an indiff'erence and torpor steal over the spirit • when memory seems dead or at least benumbed, and we go through the daily routine of duty mechanically, almost uncheered by hope, or Htimulated by motive as though conscience alone kept watch; and tho passions of the human soul, which at times so frantically and clamorously assert their claims, had> wearied with their constant wrestling, at last sank into repose. But their time of rest is short. The return of spring, "the great awakener," with all its treasured associations of other, and it may be, happier days, arouses tho heart afresh; memory bestirs itself to renewed activity, and bud and flower, and verdant landscape, are the talismans by which she revives the imperishable images of the past. Sorrow, too, keen, heavy, overwhelming sorrow, 18 "ills /I, """' lik„ once „„**"" oncu „ ' "<""" ((,„ ''^''ffolj- in • Some t ^^'='"-" '■ ""'' <«-t/,o rr '^•"""'"bcr 4ndK„ '"""•« some «,_ ""^ """^id the 54' I ^^^««od him '^' and tie PRECIOUS MEMORIES. 19 y names 'nunion o/'the 'd the tranHportitig joys of christian fr 'tulship, you aii'f I iiavo forgotton, or laid auido I'or a tiino, tho oaros ol lifo, and like tho dlHcipics of old, have been rcu(i ' to exclaim, '• It iw good for us to bo horo !" Those have boon to us as oases in tho dosort : like tho Israelites, travelling in the wilderness, faint beneath tho parching rays of tho meridian sun, wo have at length come to Elim, whore there woro twelve wells of wjiler, and threescore and ton palm trees," and have sat down under their shadow with great delight, and quaffed draught after draught of revivifyin,<r vi. tors until strengthened to pursue our onward journey. And now, though guided by the pillar of cloud, the Providence of our Heavenly Father, wo may have long since left those delightful reti'oats, and emerged into paths stoop, rugged and unsheltered; though tho tempest may bo gathering thickly around, while the place of refuge seems afar off. wo will not forgot you, oh ! valleys of consolation ! wo will not bo so ungrateful as to romembor alone our Bocihms, places of weeping; but while wo revert gladly to those hours of joys, those days of peace, sweet memorials of our Father's lovo and tenderness ; and while in memory wo retrace each Avell-known spot, those recollections shall servo but to remind us of that bettor country to which we are hastening, whore once safely lodged, life's journey done, Ave shall "go no more out for ever." Ml// '/ / I'.iil llllll • W\ llllll : ^^^ SIEGE OF iW/CJVoif. --It::::'-'- ^^-- ^"d de/,V„ •'^ '"^nf'Js wen. '(Now. le > die ' of yore, more. see no hordes race. lo, om. J, THE SIEGE OP LUCKNOW. While the sick and the dying around us lay, And we mourned for the brave hearts passed away ! The bitterest pangs of hope deferred, We tasted the livelong day, — And night, with its snatches of rest and sleep, But bore us in fancy away From the burning heat, and cannon's sound, To our native vales with their calm profound. One dreamed of Killarney's placid lakes, Another of heathery hills, — Another of England's orchards fair, Of its vales and silver rills ; Or of cities claimed as their place of birth,— And of all they had dearest prized on earth. But one,* and he was our Chieftain brave, The man with the dauntless heart. Whose cheerful words fresh courage gave, Who in all our toils took part; He dreamed, too, of many a lovely scene. But more of the haunts of his youth serene. His Acadia home with its rugged cliffs, With its forests hoary and high, With Chebucto's waves that bathed its shores, With its mellow autumn sky ; — And the friends beloved of those early years. When he gaily laughed at life's coming cares. 21 ♦Sir John Inghs, the gallant defender of Lucknow, whose thoughts it is said, amid the Tiorrors By winch he was surrounded, often recurred to the place of his birth and the home of his early youth, Halifax N 8 I lllll I ill in J; '// 22 J- our f/ayg „;'«"»=" to &„„„"; ■">'■««.; »„„d " 'T;„ ii ' 'Sue \< firji ' ;;-~.-tr.:r.;~-..n... 3 to be, ^^e one 'fnee, — pinions lig^ n^nerl 'Must cease ^'^ n!sht. '' sound I ear, ■'"ed, bear ; ' '"'^ ««d bra, ffmve." ^as heard, fefurned 'Ore ; Prajer/ >/ ABSENT FRIENDS. " Oh, is our tenderness by theira repsiid ? And do they sigh lost moments to regain, And wish each look recalled, each word unsaid, That ever chanced to give our spirits pain ? Yes, doubt it not, though cold and sundered long. Pride to the power of time and distance bends ; Forgotten is the slight, repaired the wrong; The heart still breathes, " Peace to our absent friends !" How brightly through this mortal vale of shadows, mists, and tears, shine the golden links of love which bind humaii Loings to each other. A fritrnd: of all mere earthly gifts, Heaven's crowning boon to man, -the source of unspeakable enjoyment, and yet, strange paradox, at times of unutterable anguish. Place me in a palace,— let Nature and Art both combine to gather around my dwelling their choicest charms ; let the lulling murmur of fountains and the melody of unnumbered instruments lull me to repose let the choicest viands administer daily to my wants ; let my garments be of texture the most costly,— and let the ruby, the pearl, and the diamond adorn with their flashing rays my person ; let obsequious menials wait to do my bidding, and, let Poetry, Painting and Music, sweet sisters, minister perpetually before me ;— but let the voice of affection be unheard, and the eye of love cease to beam, and the hand of friendship scatter no flowers in my path, and I would % ^^S^^T p^j^^^g^ 24 "WJthiiorgenia, "^."ia. indeed were ,ife, ^-ath t'2:;;/^-th;C^^;^^^^^^^^^ tones Of *^e dark clouds nf °''^^" *'^eir prel ^^'^ the ^"" M Heir iooe .„d K ^-^ those, ^iei,„„t ^, ' °°'' '^ "»■■- »id." - dreary, io^li'^'wiom life ,nnU ■ . ^"'. alas ! fof Iff "*'«'• "'""' *"> a snch as ours P *""" '"•"nan ,«. ,- delineate? ^"'''■""•^ what toZ„ " "' »Joy- ^''e speat not „ *"" ?"» "an Death/^te^^'^^^oftheeli^,^ *.°« deep the wout/ur''^"^^" ■« otle 'l''"*-"''- Iinger,_b»t thol„ ^°"* ''°'- ns to rf! '^"^''^'^and ^''areoly lei i'Xl"? °'^«- cause" t;""'"™ and ^''o 'oved one has d. '^^''••■etive of le ^D8. e longing, f^r the -tion with hr. ^itHijor genial :ht, fe, bright." IV' tones Of '^^^^S: sun are the presence di«peis *^«^r sympathy the fond <^ Good ^^« to remember f side" ' ^"«deed be a '«« in a world ^^^ ^"t^ enjoy. ^^ pen can Page8,__and '^<^turnand reparation t^'ictive of ABSENT FRIENDS. 25 ind. The last echo of his footsteps has died away on the threshold,— but the tremulus good-bye still lingers in our ears, and our hand still vibrates to the parting clasp. Out into the darkness, with eyes that scarce can see for thickly falling tears, our vision strains to catch one more parting look, and then we turn hurriedly away, and go back to the desolate home. What a strange change has como over the dwell- ing; how like a knell falls the sound of our steps, as we tread the silent hall, and .scend the windinrr stairs. '^ Those parlors, but yesterday they were flooded with sunshine; how gaily bloomed the flowers in those vases ; how sweetly smiled those pictured walls, while merrily floated through the rooms the notes of music; now, all is still. The flowers have lost their beauty— the voice of music is hushed, and those fair paintings seem to regard us with mournful eyes, as though they would fain sympathise in our sorrow.' And days, and weeks, and months pass on, aye, even years, and the void is still in the heart. Not visibly, perhaps, to stranger eyes, but deep down, unseen, unkenned by human vision, are those yearnings for the absent, *' We miss them when the board is spread> We miss them when the prayer is said." And the vain longing for their presence casts a sadness over our happiest moments. Every scene is redolent with their remembrance; and if amid the ceaseless care and hurrying labors of the day, they seem, perchance, less present to memory. ABSENT FfilKNDS. ' 1* their .side, and amav!ou2r'"^°""'"t toIi„ ' ommpotoat. ^""S'" hut „„o, yet that 1 ♦^0 may nof K,. „.*"'' »V "ot wipe awav *),„"' J"^''' """villinff ' Strl/" "'^ "^'''"g hS. ^"^ '-". "■■ ™ooth t^f ►J tranters in •> c* -ho .I.:,, beffi;;rs ;""'■ r'" ^h"" co„fon ceases to beat n. v ^ ^»<^l the hpovf i ' "O^e^ the nevo %i^ ^"°""' «'« troubled snin, power of prayer Tr.^ "'""""''"'• *ho omlwe"/ 'S. we forget ". ABSENT FRIENDS. 27 ■t'on swells afresh "*° ^^^n- present ^ wo throw aside ortalitj, and ask ^^' to soar away ^« of the absent iioment to linger 5f their welfare, * ^nay not be.' "ta"^s, tangled 'Jii from ug. * reiief fop the '' y^t that is 'Id beside our ;aft8 of sorrow '^y sympathise V} our wilhng f smooth the ^all comfort, 'eart almost apoteney on '^"Jg- to part '^^ed spirit, omnipotent 3^e, higher '^•er's way; '*ep of the path, and the gracious poAver that guides and over- rules all events for their welfare. Happy, thrice happy are they who have such a consolation ; of whom it may be said, " The eternal God is thy refuge, and beneath thee and around are the everlasting arms." " The Lord watch between me and thee, when we are absent one from another," is the touching pathos of their parting words, and daily, up to Heaven's "high gates" are wafted their petitions for the absent; ofttiraes in excessive ardor breathing, with streaming eyes and uplifted hands that will not be denied the boon it craves. liike another tender heart such can exclaim, "Whene'er I prayed for blessings on thy head, Nothing was cold or lifeless that I said," and add, " I wearied Heaven in fond appeals for thee," — and think you that such fervent petitions can be in vain? Nay, they are heard, they are answered; and though high wisdom may see fit to protract and make final the separation, Faith yet rejoices to believe it shall meet its beloved, " Renewed, complete, ew anthems singing in the great God-light." mil ^m i ' ^^JEU TO THE COUray. ■Fast fading from thj sight: . ^7 «°«« again on those clear lakes ^o.bathodin golden light/ ' • • ^''^-Vsdust^path^th.feet J^»8t,asofoldexplore,- A«d shad, grove, and sunny field, Be visited no more.. The oak shall spread its branches wide But other forms must rest, ' ^^ere thou, the noontide hour once spent In meditation blest. ^ °*' The mower still, at early morn, B,,;;; ^^^"^""^«^^the shall wield,- But thou Shalt brush no more the ^w From the enamelled field. ' Thewarbli„g«,,,,,,,^^^^^ The woods shall still awake,- WhUe over all the landscape fair Ihe morning glories break. But thou, no more the kindling sky Shalt watch with eager glancV ADIEU TO THE COUNTRY. Where sight and sound, alike, combined. Thy pleasure to enhance. No longer, with companions dear, The forest shalt thou tread, — The elastic moss beneath thy feet. Green waving boughs o'erhead ; Nor join the merry laugh that rings, As tangled glades detain, Each step, impatient of restraint. From some more open plain. The sunset's golden light shall bless Those woodlands as of yore, — But even that hour, so well beloved, Thy form may not restore ; To stand as erst beside the lake, And mark each glowing hue Of sunset sky, and wooded shore. Reflected back anew. Or, in thy fairy boat, impelled By some kind hand, to glide Over its placid waves, — and mark The lilies side by side ; When but the dash of oar disturbs The quiet of the hour, That falls upon the restless heart Like dew upon the flower. And still, the soft and silvery rays Of the fair Queen of Night, 29 mill ..I 80 AOIEU TO TTrr, '"""ee. „•;;"'"""•« vol, ^^^^^^'•charn.s for thee. k"^: DISAPPOINTMENT. " Come, Disappointment, come, Thougli from Hope's summit liiirled, Still, rigid Nurso, thou «rt forgiven, For thou aevore wert sent from Heaven To turn my eye Prom vanity, And point to scenes of bliss that never, never die." Tbv.H truthfully and exquisitely ^yroto the youthful Poet-'' whoso path, • " From life's dull opening to its clouded close," had been a brief but trying scene of care, privation and disappointment. Apostrophising the pale shadow that had accom- panied him from earliest childhood, he thus acQepts with meek resignation, her presence, not unmindful, amid the gathering gloom which she cast athwart his prospects, of the sweet lessons of patieace, submission and faith which fell from her lips. And like his day-dreams, beautiful, but too beautiful to be realized on earth, are the glowing visions of life's early spring-time. IN'ot more radiant the colors of the rainbow,— not more dazzling the summer's sunshine,— not more delicious the perfume of fragrant I 11 *Honry Kirko White. 82 '° «"«'< the Clf; ''"'">■'- -moC,r'-" "'"'"■■ f;°' ""6. Did y„„ tn ''""P'X'ti to t/,„ „'*•"■'"- >^"" «"<i I boU.Cv ' ^'° '■' fr'""" ■' r ""'""' ^ "•"'.■Sht With deopo^r'' ^°''™' «" ft« of'''" '"""^d -'•W-' Wit: or' '■"""o-. »hol,7^"" *»"»' """"'ct, and ZL '■"' we icnow i '"'°""' oar """•'• »«ai„i„T„7'y "■■fflc.ity «J; »«. " brightly ^ 'if™ fo„,.d'';^.'""'-p'.o.-of oid.'.'crr'-"' oome'eaS;'' ""°Sb "■« di.oTeha^f'-g "'•^""^ are fte,i„,,--bHfo.arot„C^bope. ,^^ " ^o more,-. Wave— fe." ^^ t^omains he „7 ^^« ioorcod J , ^;«^« our ' ^«;^^en in the ' *^'o goaf to *«owr career ^' "«'e should ^»' Eureica, breams are "^ay Jbavo °^er these ^'^e as Wo >'6t a sig-ii '^st warjii DISAPPOINTMENT. 33 Like the once happy but too soon fallen pair, as tboy bid the bowers of paradise a final adieu, cast no doubt, " many a lingering look behind", so we, amid the stern roalitioH by which wo are s irrounded, or from the height of some summit to which wo may have attained in the course of our pilgrimage, look back, longingly, on that ideal Paradise, in which, so blissfully sped our early hours. For too soon, like a spectre, haunting our vision, — pursuing us amid all our plans, — ready to prostrate our most sanguine schemes, comes Disappointment, casting its gloomy shadow over our pathway, an \ with its icy fingers, chilling and withering the warm impulsive heart. We may have striven to amass wealth. Disap- pointment has blown upon it, and the bubble has vanished. Fame has been within our grasp, but fier hand has 8natched|away the coveted wreath ; we may have sipped the cup of pleasure, but she had treacherously mingled with its contents, bitterest ingredients, and the draught seemed a portion of Death itself, and, when, like some celestial visitant, some angel commissioned from a brighter world, dawned the blissful vision of love, Disappointment interfering, onwrapt it in her mantle of gloom, and tore it away from our frenzied embrace. Painful are these experiences as we pass through life : it is hard to see the gold, for which perchance, we " rose up early and sat up late, and ate the bread of carefulness", melt away in our grasp, and with it the ease and luxury, the honor and influence its unfailing attendants; hard too, to behold the well I 34 I>lSAPPoiNTMEJfT. "ircnnistances L. ■'^ ""■ «» whom , fco'WJderin ji^"''"' '""•d also, wher, • ^'"'' «<> dreams, for „?"'""'■ 'I"" idea ,^ ' "■"■ J™«dest *-» "eonteC":: -»'«"-e " acta '-'«'"*-' P""'-ed forth iteri ^ ^'■'="' and at tr "^ '™°'d "">' f™ a,vat "n""" "*»'■*'« of tell'" ^^"""^^ '^o-' "nto such, be 1 ^ ^'"'» "a* offen.„ ""'^ it lies bZh^ °f """■'• toy, t^t ■? 'i'"^ "''"> it '■'"•their retrif, '"'■'"' "' their Jet -^ ""'"' " do«, 'here «„,; comoTt "°'- ^hore i» "'' ''" J'ot ""■•ed with rlo '""'''^hea,farL"5 ""'"^atime '"rn, they had l.^^'P'^od bv th„. ''^"y "atter ; '"»' !"ve,^beat^'?'"^<' aad valued I ' ?° ''" *heir I ^ '^/or which the "^ the ian,p', page re ag-e ". \W»epo8t to ^^ Pleasure's f «' and found ""^ proudest "^* brightest ■^^^'o ^vould '«e feet ^ove '^«8. to find ^noolcingiy Cometh '' ^> ^01- the 'faction of ' priceless ■y ^yith it It down, to them '^^ is yet ' a time because' suffer ; n their of that iiaunt bitter DISAPPOINTMENT. 35 yearnings, for the true heart which once laid at their feet, they had esteemed so lightly, — and in their deep sorrow, and despair, and unavailing remorse, shall yet have to acknowledge, that they suffer but a just retribution, for the agony they have so carelessly, sO Avantonly inflicted. '' If thou hast crushed a flower, The root may not be blighted ; If thou hast quenched a lamp, Once more it may be lighted ; But on the harp, or on the lute, The string which thou hast broken Shall never, in sweet sound again, Give to thy touch a token." For be sure this is no slight evil, no mere venial offence, to chill and blight the warm, impulsive heart, — ^to crush its kindest feelings, — to enter the garden of the soul, in which, like beautiful flowers, tender and holy thoughts were upspringing,— to find it fair as Eden, and to pass through it trampling on its richest luxuriance, and leaving to mark our presence nothing but a track of desolation and deepest ruin. In our interview with others, have wo not often come in contact with men, yes, and women too, so cold, so unsympathising, so cynical, that we have felt in their presence as though suddenly transported to a frigid atmosphere, and we have turned away with distaste, until in some chance moment we have learned the secret. Some early disappointment had come with its scathing, crushing influence, and though it may not have succeeded in breaking the heart, it m '"SArporjfTMEs^^ *'°»'« ftienl f "■""' " picture „f? '^'"'^'' Wore <'o«ve«„ ,0^,,, jye„enc.ed, - Si^^Zj- *oM of *»« of the s«v,,; ^""'"'f'ofeo of J,t, "•>' ''"W """"X"-, of protd / , ••"■ ^-""^ utter T""' ""o, anotherdweir "'"''"''ous hon^. ■^ destroyed- the words-. '' """' """Mchol.; of ", '^'"'"•e" Jand, "Abl- • -^ '^ "" 'poke sadjy ^""thefeC"''"""*""''™"-"-" «"•"*. one and air """^ '""Pared t, ■ .^P"'"", had s„ " ^"■'"''', that'll * 'k '»°*"»' -eparaWeC""^" the heavj' ° i'""' '"« ^""^-''•t'-.njast.na^,,. . ""' «y.-t«si„f^j ^ur searci bath f , ".-, a.ou.edanrf ^;^ reared by the ^grateful «,,,, '^^^^e^-, or coven ''■^^e some 8,veet '^^ ^^^ieh ,vere ^'unian life. ^"'^ changes of '»^et at length '^^'«g-, told of ast they Jiej.j '^^««e8; one ^ destroyed-' :^ ^^'giited; l^^^en, above ''^ei'g-n Jand '^^ «iutual had thus most the luse BISArPOINTMENT. 37 to say we will seek no more, wc will believe no lonfrer. " Deceived for once we trust not man again." It is unjust to our Father in Heaven, whose " tender mercies are over all his works ;" and unjust to our fellow-man, created after lus own image, and who in spite of his fall still retains some impress of his original brightness. There are yet " some traces of Eden " remaining below; some hearts, not perfect doubtless, for angelic perfection exists not with frail humanity, but, nevertheless, warm and true and faithful in their affection, unswerving in their attachment, and ever wearing as their motto the golden precept, " As ye would that men should do to yo, do ye also to them likewise ". Brightly on the page of history, stained by much of cruelty, wrong and outrage, shine those fair testimonials of " faithful " ones, " among the faithless found;" of man's devotion and woman's exalted constar.^y ; of love that faltered not though the way was steep and rough, and cho tender feet bled at every step;— but many still remain, of whose tenderness and truth Earth presents no record; they are inscribed, in more imperishable characters, on the tablets of Heaven. Over the remembrance of many like these wo might linger gladly, did time permit, but we forbear. Suffice it to know that such have lived, and such still dwell among us, too often unappreciated and unknown, until, summoned to a fairer world wo discover, when too late, that angels walked in our midst though we knew them not, and with wondering 38 ^^SAPPoi:,rjviENr. *iere fa « , °,™'^-™le8 sJJ thi„„- ,7™nda.y onuses to "Pon the he«l T"'''""'**»™ft» °'"''" "-d ""d <=owardjr <t "' "^ """'isten t! "" ^'''™''y ""•esh for the battJe of tl"*'*'. ''"*io on Heaven's od^i™ ■ '■>. ^"''^^^^ ^^oy have P^""^^ '^^y, to 3t "snot forget "^"^. iowever "« «f Heaven, "T causes, to '^" ^'nd that ^^°"<^," and '"ost heavily P^'odnctive '"«Eternit_y' ^^^ unbelief ^ ispering^ it DISAPPOINTMENT, and, assuredly, it shall be given, " Though long of winds and waves the sport, Condemned in wretchedness to roam, Live, thou shalt reach a sheltering port, A quiet home ! " 39 'ain. .') sons of 'kle on e^ying « "attie plain °^ 3 fated walls. IS, K. C. B. DEATH OF SIR JOHN INGLIS. Helpless wives and children there, Claiming still thy guardian care, — While the pestilence stalked wide, - Dealing death on every side, Still thy brave and loyal heart Scorned to act the coward's part ; Never yielding to the foe, Though each day some friend lay low, Patient in each long delay. While hope flickered, died away, Till, at length, deliverance came. And the rescued blest thy name. Proud Acadia claimed her son. Boasted of his honors won, — Fondly hoped, in years to be, He his native land should see ; All his boyhood's haunts retrace, Gaze in each familiar face, While his country gladly gave Welcome to her hero brave ! But ah, never, never more. Shall he tread our rock-bound shore ; All his wanderings are done. All his victories are won ; Care and sorrow, toil and pain. Now exchanged for endlesg gaia, — Heaven has claimed him for her guest-— Leave the warrior to his rest I 41 Too lATE, -,. ' She RanJr tn i 7; "'-. too : :r """« -»« ,;t t-r' "^"^^ ^n yonder ,.o„:, *'"""•. have "'■'°'"<ateearofdeath.f'''<"-'<'«»to ■ ^ &dijig TOO LATE. 48 tshe I8t, ^ tii'den of ^^^^ ^^opes, ^ ^^Qies too ^''^*^i is the ^^(i been "Pon the gri'eetfngg ^^od and iave ei d waiis •iess to fading flower she came among us, and sojourned a while on these alien shores. Full of hope she had bade a fond farewell to the home of her childhood and youth; had looked her last on each familiar scene, anticipatinn with all the buoyancy of youth and joy, a speeds blissful return, " But ah, never, nevermore Shall she tread her native shore " I She went forth, yet not alono, for ho, ner young heart's chosen, the husband of her fondest affection was with her, ' "And she beneath his tender care, Felt every fear subside ". Safely their vessel reached the destined port, nor long a time elapsed until, homeward bound, borne onward, over the laughing waters, merrily danced their bark, nearing day by day its wishedfor haven; but at length the scene was changed : the sun hid its face : thick mist enveloped the waters, and the vessel that, "like a thing of life" had so proudly and majestically moved on its course, now in an ill-fated hour, became a haple.s prey to the treacherous and hidden rocks. Despair filled each heart as silently and quickly the life-boat was launched, and the unhappy crew prepared to consign themselves to its uncertain mercies, but scarcely had the paHid and trembling woman sought refuge within it, when the frail bark suddenly submerged, and she, plunged beneath the black and ya^ming waves, felt her hold on life relax, until a merciful insensibility closed for a time the scene. 44 ™o wte. tt-08orvoda»l,v„„. , "Who M *= "^^ "P Its dead." ^^Jo can ryalnt fu t^^ero were, exilelTu ^^^^"^ers ,,.ere T ! ""^ ^^^ ^^^^■«^^ed on ier V T'^ "" ^'^^t barL "^'^^-^^r^ onceniorof. , *" ^easeJess ,.« ^^**®otion, her 'h^ would gl '^°''''''ff''in, over'th A 1^ *"'■'''• ^he '»der„o.,, and toT'-'^ten «» her '^ ""?-°g iead ""rth had vot fn "■' '"*'""' fond V "■ ' '""OS of f^"^^^::^s?\''-"-trdr««^ "'•"'■are™, stro™ l"'".P''y«'-eian;ndfI ", '""'"''y '^y tf^ero dawned f «Jone met hor ^'^^^^ one now ? ^"^«'n attempt, ,7 ^^'« own soli ' !;« yk to rise 't-s dead." '^^«^^ed heart, 'l'^'^ ^"% her ""^' and ^'e^o ;ar old shores -^0 vineyard ooast-,,vho ^e^* Jiealth Mention, her ' to return hither she 0^8 borne, !"'«ff head 8 tones of ' ^ee] that flat ^ono malady 'Sj albeit ' length hearts TOO LATE. 45 and gentle hands wore privileged to minister to her comlbrt, and cj'os, unused to weeping, filled with tears as they thought of her lonely condition, but though touchingly grateful to all, her heart yearned for her h^ :ne and her parents, and she hoped against hope, that she would be permitted to greet thorn in the land of the living. Gradually dawned the conviction on her mind that her days were numbered, and as the ties of earth became loosened, with a firmer faith, and more steadfast reliance, she placed her hopes on Heaven. " Simple trust," she would repeat, '' simple trust in the Redeemer," and as some passages of Holy Writ, or soothing strain of sacred song were repeated, her beautiful eyes would light up with joy and emotion, while sweetly and with intense fervour she would ejaculate, " Just as I am, without one plea, But that thy blood was shed for me. And that thou bid'st me come to thee, Oh, Lamb of God I come." " Write to my mother," she said to a friend who was bending over her, tenderly wiping the death-damp from her brow, " write and tell hor how ardently I desired to have ber hand to smooth my dying pillow, but oh, above all, tell her that I die trusting in Christ." And thus she peacefully passed away from earth, to rejoin, may we not believe, the beloved of her youth, amid the glorified spirits of the Redeemed, and to behold, with eyes undimmed, the Savioar whom' 46 TOO r.ATE. ^'•siouse above." ;.^ '^«^' :Ket the ' •««' «^-i bore f*''o«e Without 7«n^ thorn, ' ^^y yonthm LADY FRANKLIN. And is this all ? Is this the sole reward Of years of patient and enduring trust? Years that have blanched the bloom from those fair cheeks, And bowed that lofty spirit in the dust ; Is this the end ? To learn tliat all ia o'er, And that brave heart is stilled for evermore. Was it for this ? sine ■ that sad parting hour When tears, not words, thy woman's anguish spoke ; One vision shone before thy mental gaze, — One cherished hope thy deepest yearnings woke ; The distant sail that far thy loved one bore ; The blissful thouj^ht, "He will return once more I" "Return once more ". Slow sped the weary tince, Weeks lengthen'd into motitha, and months to yeaic, The genial Spring, the blooming Summer smiled, . And Autumn crowned, with gifts, the laborer's cares ; Then Winter, stern, resumed his rigid reign ; Still sang thy heart, " He will come back aguinf" And many a season has revolved since then, And change and death o'er many a dwelling passed ; Hearts, Once in love's sweet union, firmly knit, 48 «ave priceless p.. „, ,. I" 1* embrac, tL, , *""" """. ^'•' «'o».. pew ,„;''" "°^-"«^ ^fi^ain, and yet ac • ' *"' ""Satisfied. V ' ti»6ni, reckless > true, '^ spirit knew. cast ; •^rew near, 'torn, and cold, ' int wall, ^s enfold ; J band, ^e land : inxioug fear, 'ope deferred,^ act, rred,— ue brave, pent, rave; le,— 'rine. se; ear j eer J ied, LADY FRANKLIN. But now, at length, the fatal tidings come,- Thy years of sore suspense at last are o 'er ; But, bitter anguish for thee, faithful one The prayed, the sought for, shall return no more ' His lonely grave, midst Arctic regions drear Must all unwatered be by Friendship's tear. No weeping willow there shall graceful wave • No blooming flowers their sweetest perfume lend • JVo warbling songsters wake the silent air • Beneath Affection's step no long grass bend, Nor costly marble breathe his elegy, But icy mound his sad sepulchre be. Yet not unnoted has he passed away- History's bright page his daring deeds shall tell • And while his fate and sufferings it reveals, Shall hearts, who read, with deep emotion swell , But, better far than fairest wreaths of fame, Thy constant love embalms his honored Lame. Oh, tried and true affection ! Not in vain Though earth has closed above that precious dust, To br,ghter realms his happy soul escaped, There mingles with the spirits of the just. He waits thee now, rejoicing on that shore Where love like thine shall meet to part no more 49 k teE FADED BLOSSOMS. loe rj,^ *"- »«ii.ivemet.'> cheerful /, ^. ""'' curtains- th^T r '^'''^^^ "usj fingers lay .Jq *'"^*i ti^e apartment, ""t., at iibertv fr> , »^^'ine the minri j a wav— 7-Q ^ '''J) to roam whopn f ^^^/"a—ieft ^tj— IS one momen)- i^ i • "^lo fancy Jeads fi, ^uwy paths of tfi« * ^' *i'''ieinL'- all tK --but reason, in sober tone, f^ "'" *'"'W '■■"««. autumn bJast, so'fit?,^, *''^ ^^^^^n^ent, s^^eens fl THE FADED BLOSSOMS. 51 mis. of existence- regret,— *he tiisfance ' ^''ive met." -f«'^y around the t^^rougfe closed ^^•e diffuses its *^e apartment, • and needle, as the mind-.]eft »''ey leads the tracing, al] the ^^^ next gaiJy ' the assistance eed but nhe ' oewitehingjjr ' wou/d linger, '®« nie to caJl nd a smile, I ? visions she sweeps the ''"^"I are its for departed '^ed sad yet sweet memories, memories that early impressed on the heart can never be effaced,— "You may break, you may ruin tho vase, if yon will, But the scent of the roses will cling round it still ". In my walk to-day, where lately luxuriant foliage charmed the eye with itsgrace, and afforded refreshing Bhade from the fervent rays of the sun, the trees stood despoiled of their beauty, while, thickly crowded over the path, lay the lately verdant but now withered leaves. From the gardens, too, have disappeared the blooming flowers ; a few still inger, the last of a lovely race, as though unwilling to depart,-but winter, whose heralds are the b-inf irost and pitiless blast, has loudly proclaimed his coming, and soon the lingering vestiges of summer shall have disappeared Irom garden, field and bower Xes, the beautiful summer has gon< hat not Wer. Again shall earth rejoice in'h. .He, and .bursting from its icy fetters, awaken to fresh bJauty and life under her genial influence. Again shall the young and the happy go forth in the sunshine, singing The winter is over and gone, and the time of th^ singing of birds is come ".— " The daisy, fresh from winter's sleep ", shall again enamel the flelds,-and the sweet Mayflower, with Its perfume, lure many a wanderer to sequestered spots, while every garden shall be a chosen temple for the loveliest of Flora's train. .U^f ^^Tu'""" *^' ^'''"^" •^^^""«' ^^^^^ for a time, gladdened happy homes, expanding into loveliness every day, until the spoiler came, and, beneath his icy touch, they faded and perished. The dark ^2 THE P^CEC 3.0SS0Ma, shadows of „/ght „o ev6„ ^ho.no™^,,,^^^^^ the ,o„ ^^^,^ that m.J' '"esaofanguisi, "Ob,„„ifo^,lj •''"'»'™»w,3p„>; ;r'':"'-»,~ the ™er^:r"™'''-^-'%reea„ed ..„,-,,, " Two fair young blossoms tJmf ^"d faded b,m,«ide-.'"""^ ^ot veiy far distant is « K. «^-> death entered and IL, T ^^^^«' «ome tin^e ^«^-ers. Companions o/!^^^^^^^ «^ ^ts faired youth were thiy, and st^n " ^^ ^'^"^^'^ood and elrW memory dear".'^' '^^"' "*^0"gh Jost to sight ,t Two bloom in o- sister* j. ^ '^ ' vei'y bloom of life n^ ' »vere cut down in it the™ tho,,, ,,:, f;;: eS ^.- "«' u: wont to do no A ^a^Jsittinrj as sh! ^''''' ""'■"g "^heei, as tho OSSOMS. 7 ^^^^ing upon their '> grass that maotJes •emournf,„ . ^^"ernessofanUh: I mourn, 'vill save,— ildering urn, J^t of the grave"? J^ recalled to-night, THE FADED BLOSSOMS. 53 t grew up ^iere, some tfnae ;« of its fairest 'lood and early ^ost to sight, to " ^'"ness, the hope ^ tJown in the can stilJ recall '^<^' "ashes to '""I'tted their she was often ^^. the bright ■e to the rich ^aJr forehead, "g over the 'se delight to ^eek, as the small white fingers diligently ply the pencil, and one touch after another is added, until it stands before her completed,— and now as she pauses and looks up, catching the glance of loving eyes iient on her, what a smile illuminates her pensive countenance, — a smile so sweet, so subdued, that one might imagine, such would be the smile of angels. Of Mary's early death I had always a painful presentiment. She was so unlike others, so gentle, 80 loving; surely, blessed spirit, thou didst possess, in an eminent degree, woman's crowning ornament, " the ornament of a meek a^d quiet spirit, which in the sight of God is of great price ". I never pressed that dear hand, but I felt the time would come when I would press it no more ; I never listened to the sweet tones of that voice, but the thought would send an icy chill to my heart, that that voice should soon be silent in the grave ;— and in our happiest intercourse with each other, a feeling of sadness, which I strove in vain to overcome, would invariably steal over me, a feeling such as would prompt the exclamation :— " This cannot last ". But Jane, the younger sister, the very personifi- cation of health and cheerfulness, she of the bounding step and laughing eye, the rosy cheek, who could have dreamed that the summons would first come to her! The counsellor of her younger brothers and sisters, to whom, next to their parents, they sought for sympathy in all their little grievances,— the lightener of domestic toil, whose face made sunshine round the hearth,— the pleasant schoolmate and companion, whose merry laugh rings even now in my ear,— who would have imagined that she would have been the 'i ! 54 ^^^ ^AJED BLOSSOMS. when evi»,„„ , '">■• yoara,-;,, tl,„. *>' "P'"'' "»P'"ed a ton':"' i;r"*'' '''•"' »tream7„t'""''- ^ ^^ ''"^^^ « dark vallej." ^'""03!r:Lrftr'^""--.e.e. Boa., Ma. . ''^'^ej^ and shadow ^m active duties, ^t*'^ would have '"•^luring spirit, ^ period of life ^"d every object a8ures,-,fro,„ a '^^ yet entered called to part ; ^'^ tJ^e active ^ays, weeping' " '"n sure and ^« ^ separated- es ",-~and, in s gWef was ®nt but deep, ■cheek paler, ''cady access nence,— and ave held her ^'^^g eyes, ^est suppji. t she might fl'iendship, 3d, ley." ■ Death irm; for THE FADED BLOSSOMS. 65 faith, triumphant faith, lightened up that dying hour, aud though severe pain racked the slight frame, the mind was calm and composed, nay, eagerly anticipatingthe moment when the soul, bursting from its prison-house, should emerge into the life and light of immoTtality. Happy sisters ! ye have met again, never to be separated. And oh what cares, what griefs may you not have escaped. '" Very sorrowful '" is too often the lot of a woman. Infinite wisdom alone can penetrate the futui-e, and no doubt you were " taken away from the evil to com-e ". To us who still linger in a world of trial your memories arc precious. Embalmed with tears they may be, but there is no bitterness in those tears. We think of you as of two lovely spirits, who for awhile cheered and gladdened an earthly home.— whose words and looks uf love are still among the heart's precious treasures, — with whom we were permitted to converse, and to roam in pleasaat paths, and then suddenly ye d'sajipeared from our sight, "Ye were not, for God took you". Farewell, dear ones, but not forever. Oh, precious thrice precious Gospel, through which life and immortality are brought to light. We ma}^ not " mourn as those without hope", for well we know, if faithful we shall meet you again, — and this hope sustains us through many a dark and trying hour, while like the whisperings of some ministering spirit, recurs the BVv'eot and encouraging language of Aer,* "the early ♦Sarah Herbert. Ill 66 «"•"-. J-e, io„„ eVe?i°""' '"""'"ff known an , , " '"> ""8, greeted on th,l, '°™'' O" ^ rainbo^f, rich with I •■( fs. ^" ^^d loved on " ^^e^-nal shores. way, •ight, OUR WIDOWED QUEEN'S LAMENT, ON THE ANNIVERSARY OP THE BEATH OF HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS PRINCE ALBERT. Twelve months have sped! apain dark dawns the dav " Life of my life," ^hen thou wert borne away • When, with deep sighs that spake a breaking heart I marked thy presence from my home depart. As when the sun withdraws its cheering light, And deepest darkness veils the landscape bright So thy fond presence from my soul withdrawn, ' Left me in gloom and loneliness to mourn. ' To mourn, to mourn, though seated on a throne, Still my heart echoes to that word alone ! What now to me the gorgeous pomp of state,- The courtly throngs that for my bidding wait ? Though loyal nations cheerful homage pay, And distant realms obedient own my sway ■ Though all the gifts that wealth and power command Adorn my palace homes with lavish hand ; Wealth, power and state can yield no joy to me. Their charm is f\oA r^n u, 1.- i . . . u, „„ ;ongci auarea Willi tiiee. »8 OUR WIBOWEU CDEEN's ,,„,^, I ocious f»r than ,„ h, ^ J™ ...h„„. pen .„„-eH, „„„„,, ,i„'"^°' Sdll ou m;, J,ea„ ,t,i„e ,,„„„ .,,„ , Sti" »«<i the !.„,„„ ,,,,'J,''"™™P-»H TV children ,„„„„ L" ' "" '"''*''! ■out none e'er knpw f J.»-^ . "ena,— , ""^ * '"ora «nd Its care I Ab,„oU,e„id„rto„dU„i„ f 7" >""-'. "l'"eveH.U betidef j;';;°°«''"'^''P''-->WetheeM.dieu I" .,co„„eeU,.Uh,„„rt, °*-- %f>.Uo„arfe.„dea„,„„.e.ohp,„„ ' Wan,.„.h,,.ep3„«„e.tta„;;„,^. '°'"°"''»"«'— Hbapp™.:,:::, And, •^pernntted,«o.eti„es bend th,j;; A«d ^racous message to her svirit H ^' TpIInffi, ui- "'^'^spint brine-; p ' "'"^ ■""»' »"<! of the ,o„rH r*a.! ^™mca. and grief that here „„3tri„^ Of purest pleasures f„,.te«oodi„aZ"^'«' OUR WIDOWED queen's LAMENT. Pleasures at God's right hand lor evermore. Oh, sometimes come, I ask nought else from thee, If, but iu visions, love, return to me ; Whitper some word of counsel, word of cheer, Aud with fresh strength life's burdens I shall bear. Till gladi/ at the summons I lay down An earthly sceptre for an Heavenly crown. 59 ^^«^T f^ THE BAUms SSf. ^ SKETCH FROM r. rpF, . " To siiffe,. „ , . pensive ,ri,.| „,"'""' f'"'- tlio li,« ,T ' "''"°«' "ase, yet , ?'"'-"»'y "ot «„ abode of *"'''''>' tew,. "'"'°"""«"''ea.,„,„,,3'-^o;.«» ^ ^amp stood in fi '""g» the room anw , ^'earned ehofirfnii ' "^'^^"^ a^vay with a LIOHT IN THE DARKNESS. 61 S. '^« ftlmost pale and casement, >^en hero '^^'ng was *8, where of more Javishly ^tli and ^f(>i% as ined to overed erfuJiy of the with tt sigh, (h-cw the curtains closer to^rothor, and proceeded to arrange the tahio for the evening' meal. She had j.ist finisliod her task wlion the door opened, and an elderly lady entered the apartment. "flow is Edward now, mamma?" " He seems a little bettor and inclined to sleep so I ventured to leave him for a few moments, and have come to learn wSut success your cflbrts have mot with." "Ah! dear mamma, had I met with any encouragement, I should have soon ai)prise(i you of It; hut I felt so crushed, so dispirited, on my return. thiiL I had not the heirt to tell you." '• Well, dear Blanche," said the mother, chocringly as she marked the dei)re88ion which stole over her (laughter's countenance, and the tears that unbidden filled her eyes, "you must not forget our favorite motto, ' Hope on, hope ever!' " " I know it, dear mother, but to-night hope itself seems to have taken flight. I feel so totally discouraged, so utterly helpless. I went forward this morning with such a trusting, buoyant heart or I had carefully selected what I considered my best manuscripts, and fully anticipated meeting with some little success; but all the publishers of the periodicals to whom I applied, informed me that they liad already as large a list of contributors as they required, or as their means would warrant them in securing; and so, with many courteous apologies politely bowed me out. It is of no use, dear manTma' I plainly see I must relinquish my hopes of securino- a livelihood through literature, and betake myself to -i more humble sphere; but the question still remn,{n« G2 ^I^^HT IN THE DABKNESS. »'Vhat can I do?' Tnio v.7 '"""^'-y there are so Zn^T""""' <"■ '"■man '-'"'e.im.s, there i.„:X"y'°'''^'\*l'at I fear^ To.morrow I shall endeavor ^o »"'■ -8"! I will try %">g aside «y f„o,i3h a™' "„ »° '"'"' ««»">, and «"ve to fiod something to ,„ f?"''""'" '■<'«'ings, ~ertt:r'"^--^^ :-olve depleted ^^''^^et?"- - -el, as earnest e^- and ,.,aneed at her ^t^ef"' ^ «'- -ised her - t-^e a^ZrAftVet ^''"'' '" ■"«•"■ «« ^own com/brfcabJe/' ^re, and ?«f ^^ "own *">«"-. and ,etCn.!r- -— ""ic. — «ao maice you -«hrs:a,;"::;^,"j;'_^-9«iosced m her daughter's teaj-th, but said nothL; ^ l:':',;' <'™-» »P to he to the past. «' "" ''«'• thoughts went back JSIaneho, meanwhile i. ^ »'ton,an at her feet and ? '"'*''' '""^"'f on an ""Other's hand smoothed h"?' """"'"Piously the y^thm head that r el „ed ! T """'"^ '='»'>■ o^ tt ^o» dear, do nof hi? "nnerved." ^ '"Oored fo; a Zl "t^^.T-'^- % thoughts LIQHT IN THE DAEKNESS. 63 s I am with fn more than i, I could do ' of human that I fear^ '<^ I will try. ^ again, and ^'e feelings, '7 city, this as earnest I'aised her Sit down ^a.ke you aughter's ^P to the ent back on an isly the r oi the St her. tillness. 3; my Qerally 'ughts 8 over '• 3ent bands et—" Pausing she glanced at Blanche, who sat in a thoughtful attitude at her feet, gazing abstractedly into the glowing embers. A slight almost fragile form, a pale intellectual countenance, largo eyes, whose dreamy depths were radiant with tenderness and emotion — a noblo head and well developed brow that spoke of lofty intellect ; bnt the soft flashing eye, the small, pensive mouth and tremulous lips were expressive of all loving and tender feelings; a nature heroic and steadfast in adversity, but one which perhaps the sunshine of prosperity alone could ripen into perfect loveliness : such was Blanche Dormer. Mrs. Dormer was the daughter of an intellectual and aristocratic family j but having married against their will, an inferior in position and circumstances, not in mind, one of " nature's noblemen," she had been utterly cast oflf by her relatives. True to her woman's nature, she but clung the more closely to him for whom she had forsaken all; and though much of privation chai'acterized her married life, never had she cause to regret the step she had taken, for love, the truest, the mont devoted, was her portion, an abundant recompense, as she well knew, for every other loss sustained; and truly their quiet, humble cottage, illuminated by mutual aifection, was to them an earth 1}^ Paradise. But Death bad entered their abode, and now^, " a widow indeed and desolate," she had accompanied her only children, Blanche and her son Edward, to a large and wealthy city of New England, believing that here their talents might find appropriate spheres *f usefulness, denied them in their native land. f'i 64 LIGRT IN TEE T..« But T? . -^^^NESS. , . "^ -Edward ha I f.,?(. •,. merit. ^'^ '" P^'oductions of ""' ""^^'e' Tliesohorii ^""'"-^ superior «» ^ndeavorin /. ^"^ ^^J^^ since shoVT''^*'^" of til "'^ ^^^■^cldveBsofn '"' ^^'««""t, and LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS. 66 fever wasted ^e pbysieian termination ' ^i'8 father, ^"^ sister- 'hat source ^y Blanche ^^eart, that ^^bich has happijj. JQ ^; From wished by ^•^iJ^y fine jtal care, superior ^ficatiou ■esolved 'nt, and ^fsonie ^ gone ch our *> yet ' have anced eadjy plant and remembering Him who has promised to be a " Father to the fatherless," and a " Husband to the widow," she tenderly strove to cheer and euconrago Blanche, reminding her of many a gracious promise made to those who seek aright the bfessing of Heaven on their earnest endeavors, until Faith and Hope sprang up afresh in each desponding heart, and striving to obey the injunction "Take no thought for the morrow," they thankfully partook of their evening's repast, and speedily resumed their watching by the couch of the beloved and patient sufferer. "Frederick," said a portly-looking, elderly gentleman, as alighting from his carriage, he entered the office of the principal proprietor and editor of Magazhie, one Avhich has obtained a world- wide renown. ''What now, father?" said the young man, good- humouredly, as the former presented him a roll of manuscript. " Why, I have brought you, if I mistake not, some gems of literature, and, remember, I expect to be largely recompensed." " Well done father! so you have turned writer at last, notwithstanding your opposition to your son engaging in so precarious a profession ?" •' Not s last, young man ; not so fast. -Use your eyesight a little, and tell nio if that elegant pen manship resembles at all my cramped chirography. No, I assure you I have no intention of relinquishing my saddle-bags and golden fees for the pains and un ill 66 WODT m THE DARKNESS. pleasures of authorehin fo„ r papers ho hold i.rhis ha"d ® " "' ""> '"H «f 'heir authorship'/ t, 3: "I'T/"'' "^ *" qurz2,oaI.smiie,, I „.,,,»"■ '"> a<l<lod, with a ^- - to tho iooah ;';'[,-"'?•'' '° ''""°"^'» "Mvonient very ofto,, f„ , ^°' '"'"' J'"" ti"d i* dirootion." ^ " '° ""■" y-- stops i„ that °f "- day and loa '',;', ^'^ ■''f '" '" *'>» »-- teste, and romo„,bor,r;'l, '""'' "^ ■»3' literary remunoration for bHn-Hn,, to f , "■T"'"' •'' '»"•«« „T1- young „,„„ laughed if he ■^P"'"'- "Good morning," and .nvned'uh " '''" '""><"• P--the,nan„s„riptsoC;yX:-'o*yto ;» mneh hotter," sai.i Jila, oho Tl? ,'■'"' "^ «°'""« '■anded i,i,„ „ rofrosinn! 1°;! '"""''•>■■ "^ "!•« prepared. '« '''O'erago sho had just "Koally this is deh'oion, Ri i, ;™"ld. make an oxoohe oJik sf "^ ' ""'"'' ^■°" '- -".With a .nisehio.ors^t''':"^""?"'^'" '^' *^' cooks are /■• \ LIGHT IN THE DARKNISS. 67 the former ^" inquired ' the roll of ' opinion of you as to > with a enlighten 'Oufind it '8 in that lorous for J'e course '^ Jitorary a ]ar£*e enius." is iather iosity to >octorV getting \ as she "^ ^ just k 3'ou 8 are alwaye in great demand, while authors are of small account." "I am afraid it is your partiality that heightens the flavor of the draught, but to other lips it might prove less palatable. But what is this 'good news' you are so anxious to impart to me?" " Sit down here beside me then, for I require your most patient attention. Do you remember those writings you left on the table a few mornings since?" "Perfectly; when I came back I missed them, and would have inquired of you, but you appeared to be asleep, so I would not disturb you, and concluding that mamma had laid them aside in the desk, dismissed the matter from my mind; indeed I had forgotten all about it until now you remind mo of them." " Well, the Doctor came in a little while after you left the room that morning, and after various inquiries respecting my health, »sc., — for you know how pleasant and chatty he ia, — his eye — always a sharp one — happened to light on those papers. " I hope you have not been trying to write," he said. '' Oh no. Doctor, nothing of the kind, I assure you. Those writings are my sister's compositions, and were accidentally left on the table." " "Would you permit me to look at them ?" 1 gladly assented, and he glanced over several pages. " These seem of no ordinary merit, he remarked ; but I should like to peruse them at my leisure. My eldest son is the publisher of a flourishing periodical, 68 IK f '^ TJJ. DARKNESS. •^♦■ittis.JVESS. you about it, fearing to ..e Ue , '' '''^^ "^^^^'^^ tf "'^founded; but thfs mo,n u^'"' "^^^'^'^ «^'>hf be «on, Laving as lJn\ ""^ ^^ ^old me tbnf \ wi-f f. *i *^' "® ^"fJcinafpH hr. ^"^^ ills ""gage your services if ' "" ^'""•'■daj, and "oolributor to th„ r ' y°" «'» willing -C «isfaeto,.; to:rror;:t t /"■"^"-"" -me, out, as his father af. Parties were aw. , / «"; a prophet's ken for f- ' '^'' °™'= '■' W» i% »""•« frequent vi„i ' t ' ■""'«'"« fr"'' t^e you,!-' ^™'-': «.at diree.;;;';:,";.""::^'^ -"-tion^r.^ '^^ oade adieu to fh^ . " '^^t'O, li huichfi *^^ro these not fi^,.~./.< The,,d3tta,„„,„^. i? "8 to secure « columns." " bis taking nothing to b "■'f^ht be le that hin ^'elighted '^-clay, and in S> as a ^'^i^ came, am^ged; Gii-ed, he 3 iiis life, e young on drew ^ ^-8 his '-^^liHche ch had 'nabled 3W8 of do, to ii-ce of often CHEER UP, CHEER UP. Cheer up, cheer up ! there's nothing gained By giving way to grief, — A thanltui hrart, a loving heart, Is sure to find relief. Thii clouds must pass ; the sun will shine With more than genial ray ; Then banish quick the brow of gloom And gaily smile to-day. I know you think upon the past, And mourn for pleasures fled ; I know that thorns lie thickly strewn Upon the path we tread. I know the genial light of hope Has almost ceased to cheer, But never for one moment yield, Or hearken to despair. Oh many a mercy in the past. Still calls for grateful praise ; How sweet the memory of joys That gladdened earlier days I 70 CHEEK UP, CHEER uP. A"d thoufrh Withdrawn th. "-laken .till ..o™;;"' '" ^°^' Then, Ob ckeei- up i .),„,.., «^ «-„,„,:„;;;:;—""« gained I» '"re to fi„d relief. ' The cloiitls must n„,, ,i. »" to„i,h quiet u., ,,r J^' THE SEVERED HOUSEHOLD. " Is there a spot upon this earth . From which we'd nover wish to ronm, Wliorc best nffeotions have Ihoir Viirtli, It is our lioinc,— our own sweet home." " I dwell among mine own people." These words have been ringing in my ears all day; as I passed from one domestic duty to another, like some old familiar strain they have recurred again and again to mind; and now as night is casting'her mantle over the weary earth, as the rain patters against the casement, and the bright fire diffuses its cheerful light through the "Eoom of the Household," more forcibly than over recurs that simple but expressive sentence, '• I dwell among mine own people."- "W hat a host of pleasant recollections are conjured up by those few words, and happy, thrice happy are they who can adopt them as descriptive of their own lot. To be daily surrounded by faces familiar to us from our earliest [recollections, — to listen to voices that from childhood have soothed us with their melody, — to respond to smiles, beneath which no- treachery is concealed,— to ramble in the green old woods, and to pluck the flowers, beautiful in themselves, but more beautiful still, as associated. with sweet and precious memories of some who, like la THE SEVERED HOUSEHOLD. advantages enjovec: l.u fh. , *^® *loIightf.iI -«»t "passing away- is w -if «oo,.„d„oo.,e.„,.,ate.e.„„,„,,„,::,,:,-- another of the hannv .r,.. / mombor after t-e !.ea,.t, d.^Sf, ^r '^ef fHrV™ in distant climes- othn™ ,„ r ""' '^ "•""« Ixion inhabitants of ,1 --hn " '""^ ''" '"'^'' '■"•ng," ".HilatlastC.VhonsohlTr"',""' '''"' "" the dwelling parses ir to 'thl^h r''''" "P' ""'' memory of those «■,, ..ow Tn h !u ' "''''" ""> walls, survives onlv in^M , ' """' '" "''^Herintr ves onjy in the hearts of « feitl f„i <■ , The truth of these brief rem»,l. '^"■ ■mpressed on my mind I v t, , "■"" ""'"Wy stores to s, ok ; hnZ ''"PirtU'-e from o ir interesting memb-rtrf a 1" "T"' ''""' "' "■■•«» With the famifv air '" '"'Pr>' household. oiildhood, and though as '°'"''"'^»* "oqaainted in divided, and our te'rurfe :.:"?', """-' — intervals, still I alwavs fcl,-? °'''->' " »■»"•« ' an interest heightenTdbth "''','"' '" ""'^ ''«"«''■ trying cironmstanr "th'i ^h ^ "f'""''"' ""'' she was called to pass ^°"«> - y^^b, Whon first we became acq„ai„ted. the fan„y, 1010118 gifts,-^ h" affection, )f ^lappy arid ^e flolightfui Ii"'' exclaim, '' ereuted ihe happiest the firesjdo >mbor after rod aroMp'^ ''!• f ■ tunes :ht and life y he have ed for all en up, and while the «heJtcrinf- fulfevv. i forcibly ft'om o ;r o^ three bold, tie eldest in ted in ths.were at rare ' weliiire. ^ful an< youn^, fauiilj-, THE SEVERED HOUSEHOLD. 73 though not perhaps in very affluent cireutnstanoes. wore surrounded by every comfort, and to the eye of the casual observer nothing was wanting to complete their happiness. The mother an aniiul)ie. and excellent woman ; thefiithcramaiiof gentloinaiily address and pleasing manners; the children intelligont and lovely, — what more could be waiiling'f' But alasl a wor"i was at the root. Tiie husband and parent partook of the e[)arkling wino-cup ; and as his love for it increased, so did his affection to his family diminish. His faithful wife with tears and er) treaties besought him to relinquish a habit, which, if persit'ted in, must eventually prove his ruin; and friends, gathering around, lifted up their warning voice, imploring Mm to abstain; but their efforts were fruitless. It is true that for a time ho seemed to heed their entreaties, and hope again sprung up in the heart of his wife, but only to receive a more deadly blight. for no sooner did temptation present itself, than protestations and solomn vows were all forgotten, and !io igain became a i)rey to the (em])ter. T need not strive to trace his adual downfall. That, uo doubt, is writ ' n in characters of fire on the hearts of the members of his houso' , ,ld,— for none but those who. have marked, day ,.y dav the fatal habit acquiring a yet stronger and st er ascendancy : who, with agonizing tears and prayers ha attempted to avert the impending calrmity,— whose hopes have been blighted whose arl'ctions have been crushed,— and whose very hearts have become a prey to despair as thoy witnessed the r:^.vages of intemperance in their once happy households, none but such ar. 74 THE SEVERED HOUSEHOLD. it : a.Ioqnate to .IcHcribe the drunkard's ouroor At lon.irti, tl.o lovhur vvifo wl.o h.ul Tr. P'ainin,., tho burdo.t of I' : T ^^^.h rno"rt"" <J'''.nkurd's wife mn anpreciato L, . "^ " What WHS life to hep, What l)utu li -ering death ? Tastiiiif its bitterness In <jverv breath ;" M,tt„™.. "•"'""''''■«"" "'"l-U,.,,,, pallid, ,iyi„fe, "A mother'. ki,.,l „,„„,,. a mothor's Com} pray.r.." " ^- "'^ hcl^d^;;.^^';:;:;:::;!;:!!:! f-^;'-nd «o.nethno before oheerA.I.- '*'^' ^ "^"^'^' ^« ''P'"' up and look |if!i THE SEVERED HOUSEHOLD. 75 r. no uncoin- ono but a Kior and the placo ooked for ^sousu, tho , hopeless, opo, and, rt would in tljiit IiiKlren, Dtection ito Lhiit ul with I, flying but bor 'nmvcy loavo by, . before d look And well might nhe. for Hurcly ru-vcr had uioIIh r u more fuith!:il and atVectionute (hiiightcr. l)ir<chui'f;'in;i with a zeal that never 8lacUoned, and a love thai never tired, those dutioH which devolved upon In r as the head ol a large hounohold. she was at the same time the nurse, the comforter, tlu- stay ol her dying mother. Too often, " When woman's eye jrrow.s <liii>. And her check pnlilli. Whi-n finU-'s the beautiful Then man'.s love faileth," but not so with this devoted daughter. Regardh'ss of every recreation, she continued unweariedly her offices of love until death came and snatched the beloved object from her tender rare. And then av< i-e the hapless orphans left alone, though many kind friends gathered sym[)athisingly around them ; but none could sui)ply the place of a father, who nhouhl have been there to mingle his tears with his bereaved ones, and by his tenderness and atfectlon to mitigate, in some measure, their grief Where was he then':' Alas, before the grave had closed over the faithful wife and fond mother, he was again in the haunts of dis.sipation. striving to drown tho memory of his mi'^'^rv. and it may be his remorse, in the intoxicating bowl. Weeks passed on, and still the patient daughter discharged with fidelity the onerous duties which devolved upon her, and by unw^earied acts of kindness strove to soften that obdurate heart; but filial 76 THE SEVERED 2(.DSEF0LD. . Ii«- on\y reward. " '''"'''' ^^oW. wore At luiifc'tli life was riol seeur^ i„ i,- '"» very Me,, wouW senrt H M . , ' presence, and 'I'nil ti,.„„g|, ,,er ZZ '"^ "'"■<""■• "»"" 0„e afi,.,v,o„„ partially intovic.,t„i i '"'■loiiH |„ i,i,^ ilw,!llin,, „ .'",''• ''" returned "«'ept herself a , . '' .„'"««"™,'>' "H the family, ''"■ """ "" inno ,.o„,r, Tr ^°"'"' ""-'-ti-S "".r,l. d,.,.|„,.in,/|,; ' '2 ' "'"f ''• 'o •"■■■"« l™ 'J'l»' I'ov lr<.m| „ l' '"""•""'»"' t° kill her.' f"- -b- -Mn^t '::r V" r '" ''^"^•- ''•■' l'""».. of .s„„H. fHe,:,i, ;|,7."' "• ''« '■""•ied to the "(iilher. . , ",!'"""-""»'<"les» grasp of -"-^^^"«n::,::::^™-'o--'th:.iH. '""•"'■I'ohl is broken m 7 T " ' "'"' ""''• the ''ei.arale,! fr,™ e, oZr "T' "' "" '»«'"l-r« » 'iveiii,„„.i i„ a,;,;';;,!';:;;;" '""""*'' *-"""' »" ^^^^ t^'-e; i, is indee, a . ol r "!' ™^'"- '""' "" «'•«■ '- no, heon ,„,„. ;:, if^:, :,';;»'^' ' »"« the one half one ot the evils of i„ "'"'"'<' ""rve to eonvinee but dash the w : , :ri'i"."r- ^'-'"" '^^ '>"t one to «.-en«t,,ot«raeeto:,,oi, ::;"■'" ■•^™l"' '» ""^ "--""oftaet»wiiinot r ::^^^^^^^^^ I'-d against '^ows, from lield, were 3ence, and her heart, Jer would returned 'ne artful B family, •Ji rusting door, he •ring |)is lej*. bey, but to the in time ^J-asp of ere it is ^w the embers ;o seek ?litthe n cxis- >e half ce but )iieto n the nipJe vain GOOD-BYE. " Then give to me— oh, give to me, That OBNTLB woED, 'Good-bye.'" A GENTLE WORD, — and canst thou call it such, When standing by the couch of pain and death, Wiping the cold damps from the sufferer's brow, And watching eagerly the failing breath ; While burns with love intense the fading eye, And quivering lips pronounce a last " Good-bye ?" A GENTLE WORD, — when on the billows tossed. The bark that bears a loved one far away, — When mourns the mother for her household joy. And, in her lonely chamber, strives to pray ; Her furrowed cheek, her dim and sunken eye. Will tell what lingers in that word " Good-bye-" A GENTLE WORD, — in those delicious hours. That sometimes gild with glory life's dark page ! When the lone spirit thrills to kindred chord, And sweetest syuipathy all cares assuage ; Then doomed to part I White lips and heart-wrung sigh, Reveal the anguish of that sad " Goodbye." 7® GOOD-BYE. A GENTLE WORD.— onH Ar. Yp»i, u *"^ '^o ye deem it thus, -I nan Crod be with you " all Ufn'c • 0"-l.psfo.ge.,o.peaHh..„„rf;,Q„„,,^^„ ? heart, ;? )e, liro'