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 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 
 . •;< 
 
 1/
 
 POEMS 
 
 ON 
 
 ,• 
 
 ;ACRLD AND MISCELLANEOUS 
 
 §UBjECTS. 
 
 BY 
 
 MRS. PBEDEBIC FOWEU. 
 
 " THOTJOHTS THAT HAVE TARRIED IN MV MIND AND 
 
 PEOrLED ITS INNER CHAMBERS, 
 " THE SOBER CHILDREN OF REASON, OR DESULTORY 
 
 TRAIN OF FANCY." 
 
 Martin Tupper*s Proverbial Philosophy. 
 
 PRINTED &. PUBLISHED BY EDWARD ABBOTT, MERE STREET, 
 DISS, NORFOLK. 
 
 MDCCCLXYI.
 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 (~|)AKE THESE POEMS, GENTLE READER ; 
 
 •& TAKE THEM, JUST AS THEY WERE PENN'D. 
 
 THOUGHTS OF SADNESS, THOUGHTS OP SORROW, 
 
 JOY, OR PAIN, OR WISH OF FRIEND 
 
 THEMES SUGGESTED, — THEN I WROTE THEM, 
 
 TUNED MY LYRE TO MEASURES WILD; 
 
 LITTLE BIRDS CAME SINGING TO ME, 
 
 WHISPERING TO THE MUSE'S CHILD, 
 
 " DREAMING ONE, THOU ART OUR YOUNGEST, 
 
 " MAY THE WORLD TO THEE BE KIND, 
 
 " GENTLY SCAN THY GREATEST ERRORS, 
 
 " TO THE SMALLER FAULTS BE BLIND." 
 
 THUS ENCOURAGED BY THEIR MESSAGE, 
 
 FORTH I SEND MY SLENDER BARK, 
 
 FAITH IN HEAVEN, BE THOU MY PILOT, 
 
 GUIDE HER THROUGH THE BILLOWS DARK; 
 
 THROUGH THE ROUGH AND TURBID WATERS, 
 
 LIFE'S TEMPESTUOUS ANGRY SEA. 
 
 HOPE I MY FIRM AND CHEERFUL HELMSMAN, 
 
 ALL HER CREW I TRUST TO THEE. 
 
 CAPTAIN CHARITY CONTROL THEM, 
 
 RULE THEM WITH THY GENTLE SWAY; 
 
 THUS EQUIPT, I LAUNCH MY VESSEL, 
 
 HEAVEN SPEED HER ON HER WAY ! 
 
 824197
 
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 THE WAY OF LIFE, 
 AX ALLEGORY. 
 
 " In the way of righteousness is life." — Proverbs 12, v. 28. 
 
 I. 
 
 s#aK LBERTIS stood on Life's highway 
 <^ And in his eye there beam'd a tear, 
 For past was Childhood's sunny day. 
 And anxious Manhood waited near. 
 Roads broad and narrow too were there, 
 And some in 'wildering mazes wound. 
 Each gate did this inscription bear 
 " This way alone true bliss is found.'' 
 " Oh! who shall guide me," cried the youth, 
 " I know not where my steps to bend 
 " I seek the path that leads in truth 
 " To countless joys that never end." 
 
 II. 
 
 He turn'd, and saw a stranger stand, 
 Whose hoary locks inspired awe, 
 He held a Book in his right hand, 
 A Mirror, in the left he bore, 
 And swiftly o'er his aged face 
 A look of holy beauty spread;
 
 THE WAT OP LIFE. 
 
 He smiled with dignity and grace, 
 
 And to Albertis, thus, he said, 
 
 " Albertis, / will be thy Guide, 
 
 " With me these num'rous paths survey, 
 
 "No brilliant flower from me can hide 
 
 " The root that crumbles to decay." 
 
 III. 
 
 " For thou art young and youthful eyes 
 
 " Are dazzled by a glitt'ring bait, 
 
 " But in this Mirror scenes will rise 
 
 " That Men discover oft too late, 
 
 " And shouldst thou feel desponding fear, 
 
 " Or doubt the earnest words I say, 
 
 " This Book contains directions clear, 
 
 " To guide thy feet in Wisdom's way. 
 
 " Come then dear Youth, and look not back 
 
 " On Childhood's fleeting days with tears, 
 
 " For they have left a sunny track, 
 
 " To gild the gloom of coming years." 
 
 ¥ 
 
 IV. 
 
 Albertis took the Stranger's arm, 
 
 He could not shun that loving eye, 
 
 And oh that voice was low and calm, 
 
 And soft as Summer breezes sigh; 
 
 Then on they went, that gentle pair, 
 
 Grey-headed age and fair-haired youth, 
 
 The only object of their care 
 
 To find the path that led to truth. 
 
 At Pleasure's gate their steps they stayed, 
 
 And humbly asked admission there. 
 
 " enter, enter," cried the Maid, 
 
 11 Come see my realms so broad and fair."
 
 THE WAY OF LIFE. 
 
 She led them down a smooth decline, 
 
 Where fragrant flowers bestrew'd the ground, 
 
 And glitt'ring gems of lustre fine 
 
 Were scattered carelessly around. 
 
 Sweet Music floated through the air, 
 
 And loudly swelled the festal song, 
 
 While blooming Youths and Maidens fair, 
 
 In graceful dances passed along. 
 
 In Stately Halls the princely board, 
 
 With Viands rich and rare was spread, 
 
 And Wine from golden Goblets pour'd 
 
 In Crystal Cups shone bright and red. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Albertis heard the laugh of glee 
 
 That burst from ev'ry votary there, 
 
 " And sure," he cried, " that shout must be 
 
 •' The voice of hearts untouched by care, 
 
 " Those cheeks that glow in Beauty's bloom 
 
 " No cloud of sorrow r e'er can blight, 
 
 " No tear of woe can cast a gloom 
 
 " O'er those clear eyes of dazzling light. 
 
 " Yes, Pleasure, in thy path I'll tread, 
 
 " Thy Path that's strewn with sunny flowers, 
 
 " On yon green bank I'll rest my head, 
 
 " And wile away the joyous hours.'' 
 
 VII. 
 
 " Albertis! " said a low small voice, 
 " And hast thou then forgot thy guide ? 
 " O think before thou mak'st thy choice 
 " And down this yawning vortex glide, 
 " The flowers thou dost so much admire 
 •' Will droop and wither in decay,
 
 THE WAY OF LIFE. 
 
 •' Those gems are sparks of transient fire 
 •• That fade like morning (Sows away. 
 '• And didst thou say those eyes of joy 
 " Shall ne'er be dimm'd by tears of grief 1 
 "Look on this Mirror, thoughtless Boy, 
 "And learn that Pleasure's reign is brief." 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The Youth impatiently turned round, 
 And on the magic mirror gazed, 
 In deep distress he quickly found 
 How vain were all the hopes he raised; 
 For on the glass so clear and bright 
 Soon forms and shapes began to rise, 
 And dimly seen by pale lamp light, 
 This scene of sorrow met his eyes. 
 There in a room mid all that wealth 
 That dang' rous talent can bestow, 
 Possessing all but ruddy health, 
 A youthful maiden mourned in woe. 
 
 IX. 
 
 She bad been one whose sunny glance 
 
 "Was brightest in the festal throng, 
 
 Her step was lightest in the dance, 
 
 Her voice was loudest in the song. 
 
 But Dora's joy was hushed beneath 
 
 The cruel hand of ling'ring pain, 
 
 Neglected lay the myrtle wreath, 
 
 The sparkling jewels shone in vain. 
 
 Her gilded Harp forgotten hung 
 
 Upon the richly pictured wall, 
 
 That harp whose sounding chords had rung 
 
 So sweetly through the stately hall.
 
 THE WAY OF LIFE. 
 
 X. 
 
 The voice that warbled in the Song 
 Was yielding up its mortal breath, 
 The hand that swept the Harp along 
 "Would soon be cold and stiff in death. 
 The weeping mother, worn M - ith woe, 
 Was bending o'er her fading flower, 
 And while she fann'd her burning brow, 
 She sought to calm her dying hour. 
 " In vain in vain," the maiden cried, 
 " Talk not to mc of bliss in Heaven, 
 " For I Jehovah's wrath defied, 
 " And cannot cannot be forgiven." 
 
 XL 
 
 "Have I not lived in Pleasure's throng 
 
 " Unmindful of the God above .' 
 
 " Have whiii'd in Folly's dance along 
 
 " Forgetful of a Saviour's love, 
 
 •• And now no Augel hosts attend 
 
 •' To waft my soul from scenes below, 
 
 '• But when my sinful life shall end 
 
 •• I wake in realms of deathless woe, 
 
 '• Oh! could I live another hour, 
 
 •• My words might reach to Heaven's gate, 
 
 ik But prayer has lost its saving power 
 
 " And sad Repentance comes too late 
 
 XII. 
 
 " Whene'er thou seest the young and fair 
 " The race of pleasure madly run, 
 li Bid them to meet their God prepare, 
 " While brightly shines the morning sun. 
 " What though the Music sweetly sounds 
 " mother bid them linger not,
 
 THE WAY OF LIFE. 
 
 " Anil though the laugh of glee resounds 
 " Still warn them from the witching spot. 
 " And should they still forget to pray, 
 " And words of gentle warning chide 
 " Remind them of the judgment day, 
 " And tell how hapless Dora died," — 
 
 XII. 
 
 The scene was o'er, the mirror's face 
 Was soon without a cloud again, 
 And on the glass was left no trace 
 Of that sad tale of grief and pain. 
 The old man sighed and gently said, 
 " Alhertis, now the scene is past. 
 " And dost thou still desire to tread 
 " This path that must bring woe at last ? 
 " Then hear what says this Book of truth 
 " That many now in Heaven have read, 
 " These are its words to thee O Youth, 
 " He who in pleasure lives is dead." 
 
 XIV. 
 
 " haste thee haste, no longer stay 
 
 " Though gaily bloom the roses here, 
 
 li When sorrow comes they'll fade away, 
 
 " And every gem will disappear. 
 
 " Come then, another path pursue 
 
 " Whose end shall be eternal bliss, 
 
 " Whose promises shall be more true, 
 
 "Whose smile shall not be false as this. 
 
 " Away, away, ere yet too late, 
 
 " To-morrow Death may seal thy brow, 
 
 " O why mid scenes enchanted wait, 
 
 " Break break the spell that binds thee now."
 
 THE WAY OP LIFE. 
 
 XV. 
 
 " Yes yes I'll go," Albertis cried, 
 " Bright smiling Pleasure fare-tbee-well, 
 " Let those who will with thee abide, 
 " But I, mid lasting joys will dwell, 
 " For higher than the laugh of glee 
 " A cry of sorrow greets mine ear, 
 " And Dora's wasted form I see 
 " Still haunting every footpath here 
 " Again I'll wander forth dear friend, 
 " And still be thou my constant guide, 
 " My thoughtless footsteps still attend, 
 " And never let me quit thy side." 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Together then they left the spot, 
 And through the open portal pass'd 
 The laugh of scorn they heeded not, 
 And looked on Pleasure for the last. 
 Albertis next his footsteps stay'd 
 Before a gateway decked with flowers, 
 Near which in gorgeous robes array'd 
 A maiden call'd him to her bowers. 
 " Dear Youth," she said, my name is Joy, 
 " Let me thy lov'd companion be, 
 " No grief or sorrow can destroy 
 " The bliss that I will shower on thee." 
 
 XVII. 
 
 " Yes thou art fair," exclaim'd the Youth, 
 
 " E'en now I seem to love thee well, 
 
 " And if thy name is Joy^ in truth 
 
 " With thee for ever I will dwell. 
 
 " Is she not lovely gentle friend ? 
 
 " Come let us pass this gate of flowers,
 
 THE WAY OF LIFE. 
 
 " For surely here our toil must end 
 
 " Amid these glad and sunny bowers. 
 
 " Hark, hark, the joyous shout of mirth 
 
 " Comes floating on the scented breeze, 
 
 " And all the fairest things on earth 
 
 " Seem gathered here to charm and please." 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 " Away," the old man cried, " 'tis Vice, 
 " Who boasts of joys she'll ne'er bestow, 
 " The brimming bowl and rattling dice 
 " Will cause thee tears of bitter woe. 
 " She hides beneath the name of Joy 
 " Her num'rous sins of darkest stain, 
 if But heed her not thou thoughtless boy, 
 •• She'll wring thy tender heart witli pain, 
 " Heed not that shout so loud and long, 
 "And list not to its impious glee, 
 '• The gambler's laugh, the drunkard's song 
 " Can surely have no charms for thee." 
 
 XIX. 
 
 As if by venom'd serpent stung 
 Albertis quickly sprung aside, 
 Close to the Stranger's arm he clung, 
 And thus in tones of grief he cried, 
 "Vice, hated Vice, and was it thou, 
 •' On whom with loving eyes I gazed 1 
 " Thank Heaven, detested maiden, now 
 " I know the worth of what I praised. 
 " I know thy smile so brightly gay 
 li Is death to all who trust in thee, 
 " And troubled thoughts will drive away 
 " Thy loudest shout of noisy gleo "
 
 THE WAY OP LIFE. 
 
 XX. 
 
 '• Thou gentle friend whose warning voice 
 
 " Has saved me from this cunning snare, 
 
 " Still, still direct and guide my choice, 
 
 " For much I need thy thoughtful care. 
 
 " See, see, yon pathway leads to Fame, 
 
 " Ah that's the road I long to tread 
 
 " When crowds shall shout my conquering name, 
 
 " And wreath the laurel round my head. 
 
 " See Victory spreads her trophies there, 
 
 ' ' The hanners of the fallen foe, 
 
 " She points to Kingdoms hroad and fair, 
 
 " The gifts her gracious hands hestow." 
 
 XXI. 
 
 '• Hark! hark! the trumpet sounds away! 
 
 " I'll win a Hero's deathless name, 
 
 '■ Before these sturdy limhs decay 
 
 " Thou shalt he mine, immortal Fame ! " 
 
 So through the open gate they pass'd 
 
 To tread that path where numhers throng, 
 
 The young man's heart with hope beat fast 
 
 As joyously he tripp'd along. 
 
 Less lightly came his aged Guide, 
 
 For num'rous fears perplex'd his mind, 
 
 And while to calm each doubt he tried 
 
 He cast an anxious look behind. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Not so the youth, with ardour fir'd, 
 
 He bounded up each rugged height, 
 
 And wandered on with foot untir'd 
 
 To bask in Glory's blazing light. 
 
 They saw the Victor pass along 
 
 While thronging crowds to meet him came,
 
 10 THE WAY OF LIFE. 
 
 And thousand voices rose in song 
 
 His deeds of prowess to proclaim. 
 
 " Behold,"' Albertis cried, •' the hours 
 
 " Of painful strive reward will meet, 
 
 " For toil has bought those beauteous flowers, 
 
 " Yon war horse crushes 'neath his feet." 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 " Impetuous youth," the stranger said 
 
 " Why toil for things that pass away, 
 
 " The crown that decks yon Victor's head 
 
 " Will fade and wither in a day. 
 
 u What is the praise of men like these ? 
 
 " ' Tis fickle as the changing wind, 
 
 " That fans the cheek with gentle breeze 
 
 " Then loudly howls, in storms unkind. 
 
 " Come look upon this glass again 
 
 '• And learn how dearly Fame is bought, 
 
 " For widows' tears were shed like rain, 
 
 " And deeds of blood were freely wrought." 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 'Lured by the old man's winning grace 
 Albertis turn'd, and fixed his eyes 
 Upon the Mirror's shining face 
 On which he saw this scene arise. 
 'Twas night, — and on the battle plain 
 The dead and dying thickly lay, 
 For many gallant men were slain 
 In cruel conflict waged that day. 
 The calm unbroken stillness seem'd 
 To mock the ravage, Wat had spread, 
 And Badly fair the moonbeams stream'd 
 Upon the faces uf the dead.
 
 THE WAY OF LIFE. 11 
 
 XXV. 
 
 A soldier's youthful bride was there 
 In search for him she lov'd so well, 
 Her dark eyes shone with fearful glare 
 As on each fresh slain form they fell. 
 Beside her ran a noble hound, 
 "Who check'd his wonted bounding pace, 
 And bent his head upon the ground, 
 As if to seek his Master's face. 
 But soon, alas ! she saw him stand 
 Before a form o'er which he bow'd, 
 And lick'd the still and clay-cold hand 
 Then raised his head ; and howl'd aloud. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 The young bride's cheek still paler grew 
 Her wild screams rent the midnight air, 
 For well that stricken form she knew, 
 It was her husband lying there. 
 Yes, 'twas the husband of her youth, 
 Whose shielding love had been her stay, 
 Whose beaming eyes so full of truth 
 Had shone with pure affection's ray ; 
 'Twas he, whose thrilling voice had rung 
 Like music when to her he spoke, 
 On whose strong arm she fondly clung 
 E'en as the ivy grasps the oak. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 She knelt upon the blood stain'd ground 
 And loudly call'd his much lov'd name, 
 But all was still , — no answering sound 
 From Rudolph's lips to cheer her came. 
 She push'd the dark curls from his brow,
 
 12 THE WAY OF LIFK. 
 
 Then wildly kiss'd his icy face, 
 
 And cried, " my husband why so slow 
 
 " To greet thy Edith's fond embrace ? 
 
 " Ah thou art dead, and never more 
 
 " These lips shall part to bless thy bride, 
 
 " Oh ! that my life like thine was o'er. 
 
 " Would that with thee I too had died." 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 " The victor's shouts will rend the skies, 
 
 •' They '11 loudly praise our monarch's name, 
 
 " And check the widow's frantic cries 
 
 " Because her country lives to Fame. 
 
 " Oh ! how their joy will pierce the heart 
 
 " Of her whose earthly joy has fled, 
 
 " 'Twill make the burning teardrops start 
 
 " To see them crown the conqueror's head. 
 
 " And this is Glory ! — God of Love, 
 
 " Thine eye this blood-red field will mark, 
 
 " Thou Lord of Hosts from Ileav'n above 
 
 " Will frown upon a deed so dark."' 
 
 * * * * • 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 The scene was past, the faithful guide 
 
 Perceived it had not been in vain, 
 
 He saw Albertis stoop to hide 
 
 The tear that told his inward pain 
 
 "Young man," he cried, "thou seest how dear 
 
 " The price of Victory's joyous cry, 
 
 " The Widow's wail will reach Bis ear, 
 
 " Who dwells beyond the sapphire sky. 
 
 " Yes God will hear, 'tis not His will 
 
 " That man his fellows should oppress, 
 
 " He bids ambition's voice he still, 
 
 " And says, " the humble 1 will bless."
 
 THE WAY OF LIFE. 13 
 
 XXX. 
 
 •' Should cruel foes invade the land 
 " Thy hoasted freedom to contend, 
 " Then duty bids thee lift thy hand 
 " Thy home and country to defend, 
 " But follow not the steps of those 
 '• Who wealth and empire long to hold, 
 " And count the richest men their foes, 
 4i Because they wish to take their gold. 
 " They love to see the serfs bow down, 
 " And vassals tremble at their nod ; 
 '• They dearly prize their high renown 
 •' But care not for the praise of God." 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 " List to these words of priceless worth 
 
 " This Book contains, in mercy given, 
 
 " " Love not the world, nor things of earth, 
 
 " " But let thy treasure be in Heaven." 
 
 " No things of earth can e'er bestow 
 
 " That peace of mind thou long'st to gain, 
 
 " What will avail this glitt'ring show 
 
 " When thou art sad, or worn with pain 1 
 
 " 'Tis Virtue and Religion's road 
 
 " That brings delights which never cloy, 
 
 " It leads to Heaven's blest abode, 
 
 " Where Angels chaunt their songs of joy." 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 " Come enter then yon wicket gate, 
 
 " Though 'tis not decked with tinsel bright 
 
 " Attendant Angels o'er it wait 
 
 " And shielding spread their wings of light.
 
 14 THE WAY OF LIFE 
 
 il Dear youth in this thy summer's day 
 
 " Remember Him who died for thee, 
 
 " Dear onward in the narrow way 
 
 " And let the Lord thy portion he. 
 
 " Rememher Him ere Autumn's heat 
 
 " Has streak'd thy locks with silvery white. 
 
 " Before thy weary, trembling feet 
 
 " Shall sink in winter's gloomy night." 
 
 XXXIII. 
 This said he took the young man's hand 
 And through the narrow portal pass'il, 
 To join that small yet happy band 
 Who endless bliss will gain at last. 
 Oh then in Heaven's courts on high 
 Still louder rose each seraph voice, 
 The Angels touch their harps and cry 
 With songs of joy " rejoice, rejoice. 
 " Behold the path of peace is found, 
 " The wand'rer treads the narrow way 
 " Hark ! Hark ! what means that murmuring sound, 
 (i Rejoice, rejoice, he kneels to pray." 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 " Another knee to God doth bow, 
 
 " Fresh incense fills this region's height 
 
 " Another sparkling jewel now 
 
 " Shall deck the Saviour's crown of light." 
 
 While thus the Angels gladly sung 
 
 The youth and stranger onward pass'd. 
 
 Still to his guide Albertis clung 
 
 Full glad that truth was found at last. 
 
 But ah, that path was rough and steep, 
 
 Huge blocks and stones half hid the ground, 
 
 While open pits and chasms deep 
 
 Yawned on him as he gazed around.
 
 THE WAY OF LIFE. 
 
 XXXV 
 
 Soon terror-struck he loudly cried 
 
 " Help, help. I tremble lest I fall 
 
 " hold me up thou gentle guide 
 
 " These soundless depths my heart appal, 
 
 " These cruel stones will throw me down, 
 
 " My feet are sinking even now, 
 
 " And say what means this thorny crown 
 
 " That presses on my aching brow ? 
 
 " Is this the path that leads to peace ? 
 
 " This weary march the way of life ? 
 
 " When will this painful toiling cease? 
 
 " Oh when shall end this dreadful strife." 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 This said, the young man's strength gave way 
 
 The toilsome march he could not bear, 
 
 And fainting on the ground he lay, 
 
 O'ercome by terror, toil, and care, 
 
 But soon the stranger's willing arm, 
 
 Had gently raised his drooping head, 
 
 He bade his beating heart be calm, 
 
 And thus in loving accents said, 
 
 " child of God why dost thou fear ? 
 
 " The road is rough the chasms deep, 
 
 " But guardian Angels hover near 
 
 " And o'er thy steps a vigil keep." 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 " This crown of thorns may press thee sore 
 " But bear thee up, still patient be, 
 " Remember that thy Saviour bore 
 " Far deeper pain and grief for thee.
 
 ]<) THE WAY OF LIFE. 
 
 " From him no murmur ever rose 
 
 " Though thousands raised the cry of shame, 
 
 " And on the Cross he prayed for those 
 
 " Who loudly scoffed his holy name 
 
 " Come sec his last sad dying hour, 
 
 " His cry of mournful sorrow hear, 
 
 " And may that woeful scene have power 
 
 " To hush each murmur, calm each fear." 
 
 XXXV ITT. 
 
 Ah ! then that wond'rous glass display'd 
 
 A scene with pain and sorrow rife, 
 
 The Son of God by man betray 'd 
 
 For sinners laying down His life. — 
 
 T'was morn, the glorious sunlight streamed 
 
 Upon the temple's gilded height, 
 
 Till ev'ry lofty pillar gleamed 
 
 Like diamonds set in golden light. 
 
 O Salem ! City richly blest, 
 
 How beauteous was thy smile that morn, 
 
 When bathed in dew thy heaving breast 
 
 Seem'd deck'd with verdure newly born. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Thy dark-eyed daughters' mid thy bowers 
 Sung to their hai'ps soft lays of love, 
 And perfume from a thousand flowers 
 Came wafting from the hills above ; 
 But heedless of thy beauties then 
 Forth from the palace, hut and hall. 
 A noisy crowd of busy men 
 Were hastening past the lofty wall 
 They led two culpiits forth to die 
 Who long the stamp of guilt had borne, 
 But not for them arose the cry 
 Of frenzied hate and bitter scorn.
 
 THE WAY OF LIFE, 17 
 
 XL. 
 
 No, 'twas a, weary man of grief 
 Whose name with curses reut the sky, 
 No hand would give I/i.s woes relief, 
 To Mm no living friend was nigh ; 
 Without a word his cross he bore. 
 Though sinking 'neatli the heavy load, 
 The Crown of thorns he meekly wore 
 While from his brow the life-streams flow'd. 
 But Calvary was gained at last, 
 'Twas there the Son of God must die. 
 He knew the strife would soon be past, 
 Yet love was beaming in his eye. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Yes, love for all that guilty race 
 For whom he pass'd his life of woe, 
 A love that never could find space 
 In human hearts to root and grow. 
 Upon the cruel Cross they bound 
 Him, bleeding from the soldier's rod, 
 While raging hundreds gathering round 
 Cried, " save thyself, thou Son of God." 
 But still no frown of anger came 
 Across that brow so pale and high. 
 No mutter'd curse or word of blame 
 Burst from those lips in agony. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 But, in that last dread hour of strife 
 The Saviour raised his eyes to heaven, 
 And those who took his blameless life 
 He prayed might be by God forgiven. 
 The brilliant sun withdrew his light 
 That scene of guilt and shame to hide,
 
 18 THE WAY OF LIFE. 
 
 And earth was wrapt in shades of night 
 When Christ for man was crucified. 
 " My God, my God, dost thou forsake? " 
 Pour'd from the sufferer's lips at last, 
 He felt the powers of Hell awake, 
 Before his Soul to Heaven pass'd. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 The trembling earth refused to bear 
 The weight of all the Saviour's pain. 
 The noise of earthquakes filled the air. 
 And miglity rocks were rent in twain. 
 
 " Albcrtis," cried the aged guide, 
 
 " To God thy adoration pay, 
 
 •' It was for thee the Saviour died 
 
 '' His blood has washed thy guilt away. 
 
 " It was for thrc the Lord of life 
 
 u Forsook the endless bliss of heaven, 
 
 "And lived on earth 'mid painful strife 
 
 " That Adam's sin might be forgiven." 
 
 xliv. 
 
 '' For thee his brow was crowned with thorn 
 
 " In Death His weary eye grew dim, 
 
 " All, all, for thee was meekly borne, 
 
 " Dear Youth, wilt thou not live for Him 1 
 
 '• Then keep within the narrow way 
 
 '• For though the road is rough and steep, 
 
 M 'Twill grow more even ev'ry day 
 
 " And time will close these chasms deep. 
 
 " The thorny crown that pains thy brow 
 
 " Will soon fall harmless at thy feet, 
 
 " And dangers great that threaten now 
 
 "Thou soon with smiling face shalt meet."
 
 THE WAY OF LIFE. 19 
 
 XLV. 
 
 " These blessed words of promise hear, 
 " Which God has sent to comfort thee ; 
 " " Pilgrim of Life why dost thou fear ? 
 " " For I the Lord thy guide will be. 
 " " I love the soul that honours me 
 " " Ere time has left its sting behind, 
 " " The Youthful Saint I joy to see, 
 " " And they who early seek, shall rind. 
 " " Though Satan with his hosts assail, 
 " " Aud soundless depths should open wide, 
 " " Still, still, his arts shall not avail, 
 " " If thou in my strong arm confide." " 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 " " Because I love thee, I will send 
 
 " " Some trials great, thy faith to try, 
 
 " " But when thy journey here shall end, 
 
 " " The joys of heaveu shall greet thine eye, — 
 
 " " The voice of angels robed in light 
 
 " " In hymns of praise shall meet thine ear, 
 
 " " The better land shall greet thy sight 
 
 " " And I will wipe away each tear 
 
 " " On wings of glory thou shalt soar 
 
 ,; " To hymn thy dear Redeemer's praise, 
 
 " " Where sin and sorrow never moie 
 
 " " The deep and heartfelt sigh shall raise." " 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 " " Let not thy trust in heaven cease, 
 
 " '' But tread the path thy Saviour trod, 
 
 " " For he shall be in perfect peace, 
 
 « « Whose mind is stayed upon his God." " —
 
 20 TIIK WAY OP LIFE 
 
 " Yea, yes," Albertis cried, " dear Lord, 
 " I choose the strait and narrow way, 
 11 Confiding in thy gracious word 
 " That thj' strong arm shall he my stay. 
 " Thou gentle Shepherd good and kind 
 " teach me now to do thy will, 
 " Make me to every grief resigned, 
 " Since thou art near to comfort still.'' 
 
 XLVIII. 
 " Then come thou guilty King of Hell 
 " And hurl thy fiery darts on me, 
 " For I the strongest foe can fell 
 " In God's own strength I come to thee. 
 " And thou my ever faithful truide. 
 " Kind stranger tell thy hidden name, 
 " The book and glass, no longer hide 
 " From whence those precious treasures came." 
 The old man raised his hoary head, 
 His mild eye shone with heavenly light, 
 And " Conscience is my name," he said, 
 " Reflection is my mirror bright." 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 " The P.ible is the Book divine, 
 
 " Whose promises have cheered thy heart, 
 
 '• The hand of God has traced each line, 
 
 " And tliat and ] can never part. 
 
 " It was the Lord who sent us here 
 
 <; To guide the souls who seek for rest, 
 
 " And they who ever hold us dear 
 
 " Shall with the smile of peace be blest. 
 
 " Then give thy hand my youthful friend, 
 
 '' And let us journey on again, 
 
 "This narrow path in bliss shall end, 
 
 '• For none e'er sought the Lord in vain."
 
 TO ELLEN. 21 
 
 L. 
 
 " At morn before the strife begins 
 
 " For strength to conquer humby pray, 
 
 " At eve ask pardon for the sins 
 
 " Thou hast committed through the day. 
 
 " To others lend a helping hand, 
 
 " And cheer thy fellow Pilgrim's heart, 
 
 " By pointing to the better land, 
 
 " Where tears of sorrow never start. 
 
 " Albertis, then the Lord will bless, 
 
 " Religion's joys shall never cease, 
 
 " Her ways are ways of Pleasantness, 
 
 " And all her paths shall end in peace." 
 
 TO ELLEN. 
 
 " f A,Y Ellen dear, my Ellen dear, 
 V$P O ur parting hour is nigh, 
 And I must wipe away the tear 
 That trembles in mine eye." 
 
 " How happily our time has pass'd 
 As roaming on the shore, 
 We watch'd the sailor climb the mast 
 And heard the ocean's roar." 
 
 " We 've seen the proud ship spread her sail 
 
 To leave her British home, 
 
 And bending forward to the gale 
 
 Dash boldly through the foam."
 
 22 
 
 TO ELLEN. 
 
 " We've seen the sea-bird ride the wave 
 As proud as sceptred king, 
 Beneath the sparkling waters lave, 
 His plumed and snowy wing." 
 
 " Thus, thus, have pass'd the hours of day, 
 
 And then at even tide 
 
 We've wiled the happy time away, 
 
 In converse side by side." 
 
 " But now those pleasant days are o'er, 
 I wave a last adieu, 
 The gallant ships and sea-girt shore 
 Are fading from my view." 
 
 " They say that Friendship's but a name, 
 " A flower of transient bloom, 
 " A dazzling spark of fitful flame 
 " That leaves us wrapt in gloom." 
 
 " When fortune smiles we've many friends, 
 But waves of trouble swell, 
 And then, alas ! so often ends 
 A Friendship prized too well." 
 
 " Some hearts that now so kindly seem 
 May then grow sadly strange, 
 But Ellen dear, thine eye's fond beam 
 Can never, never change." 
 
 " Farewell, farewell, for we must part, 
 Far, far away, I soon shall be, 
 But absence cannot change the heart, 
 That beats with love for thee."
 
 THE DREAM. '2'd 
 
 THE DREAM 
 
 AXE summer eve I watched the sun go down, 
 *& And sitting by the open window, looked 
 Upon the glowing sky, until mine eye 
 Grew dim with gazing on the brilliant clouds ; 
 My brain was weary of the gorgeous sight, 
 I leant my head upon my hand and slept ; 
 And in my sleep a Dream came over me, 
 'Twas very sad, and yet 'twas beautiful. — 
 I stood within a pleasant garden, where 
 The brightest flowers shed rich perfume around, 
 A sparkling fountain played beside me, and 
 Its waters shone like diamonds in the sun. — 
 As breathing life around, with merry laugh 
 They sought the marble reservoir beneath ; 
 The birds were singing sweetly and no cloud 
 Bedimm'd the azure sky. Long had I gazed, 
 When suddenly a soft and silvery laugh 
 Came ringing to mine ear, and turning round 
 I saw beside that sparkling fountain's edge 
 Two female forms, and at a glance I knew 
 They were a mother and her child, they were 
 So much alike, save that the mother's braids 
 Were darker than the maiden's glossy curls ; 
 The light of her grey eye was more subdued, 
 Than the quick glancing of her daughter's orb 
 Of blue, more pale her cheek, her step less fleet : 
 But time had dealt so gently with her, that, 
 Her brow was scarce less spotless, smooth, and fair.
 
 24 Tin; DREAM. 
 
 With tearful eyes I watched that lovely pair, 
 
 I saw the maiden kneel upon the ground 
 
 And drop a ebesnut in the grassy sward, 
 
 Then lifting up her smiling face, she said, 
 
 " 'Tie sure to grow, for Eva planted it, 
 
 And fortune ever on her act has smiled." 
 
 I gazed upon the mother then, and joy'd 
 
 To see her eyes were raised to heaven, her hand 
 
 Was laid upon those sunny curls, she breathed 
 
 A silent prayer that God would bless her child. 
 
 I looked upon that blue-eyed girl, and lo, 
 
 A mighty pulse of rapture thrilled my frame, 
 
 For never had I seen before, a form 
 
 Of such transcendent loveliness ; she seem'd 
 
 A being from a brighter world ; so fair. 
 
 So elegant, as if the wintry wind 
 
 Would sweep her to the earth. While thus me 
 
 thought, 
 A heavy mist came o'er the trees and flowers ; 
 The child and mother vanish'd from my sight. — 
 'Twas but a moment, then the sun burst through 
 The veil that hid his shining face, the cloud 
 Of vapour roll'd away : once more I stood 
 In that same garden, 'neath the same old tree, 
 But yet methought that years had pass'd since last, 
 I visited the spot, 'twas summer still, 
 The flowers were gay as ever, and the birds 
 Sung sweetly as before ; the fountain play'd, 
 With joyous sound, but lo I beside its edge 
 Kissing the waters with its fan-like leaves 
 A noble chesnut stood ; " what can this mean ? " 
 I cried, then swiftly as an arrow, flew 
 My thoughts to years gone by, when kneeling by 
 Those waters clear, a maiden in that spot, 
 Deposited the seed, that now had grown a strong 
 And beauteous tree. I thought upon that girl,
 
 TUE DREAM. 25 
 
 Ah ! was she yet a pilgrim upon earth, 
 
 If so, her spring and summer must be past, 
 
 And autumn's sombre veil must shade her brow ; 
 
 But lo 1 who comes with tottering step, array 'd 
 
 In robes of deepest black, her forehead marked 
 
 With lines of grief and care : and now she stands 
 
 Beneath the chesnut tree, and sure I know 
 
 That face, yes ! yes ! 'tis she ; the mother too 
 
 Of that sweet child, but oh ! how changed her brow, 
 
 The rich brown braids, the ruby lips, and fair 
 
 Smooth face, the sparkling eye ? ah ! thin grey hairs 
 
 Now shade a wrinkled face, the rosy lips 
 
 Are pale with grief, the once bright eye is dim 
 
 With age ; her child is dead ! the wintry frost 
 
 Has nipped the opening bud, the timid dove 
 
 Has spread its wings, and soared to distant worlds 
 
 On high, to bask in beams of endless joy. 
 
 On Eva's grave the rose and lily grow, 
 
 For God has sent His angel bands, to call 
 
 Their sister spirit home, — the mother stood 
 
 Beside the waters clear, and thought upon 
 
 Her lov'd and lost, while agony too deep 
 
 For words, was painted in her face ; one large 
 
 Clear tear well'd from her full and bursting heart 
 
 And wander'd o'er her f urrow'd cheek ; what were 
 
 The brilliant flowers, the fountain's laugh, the birds' 
 
 Sweet song, to her whose one lone star had set, 
 
 And left her sad and lonely, though all else 
 
 Was gay and fair ? she turn'd her weary eyes 
 
 From the clear fountain to the fresh green grass, 
 
 And there a simple daisy met her view, 
 
 A glitt'ring tear of dew was resting on 
 
 Its pearly fringe, but still its golden eye 
 
 Was raised to heaven, it seein'd in gentle tones 
 
 To chide the mother's hopeless grief, and bade 
 
 Her still look up, nor did it speak in vain. —
 
 26 THE DREAM. 
 
 For soon that placid smile she wore in days 
 
 Gone by, came stealing o'er her aged face, 
 
 And faith and hope lit up her faded orb 
 
 She too look'd up upon the cloudless sky 
 
 And then in broken accents cried, " Thy will 
 
 " My God be done, my Eva I shall go 
 
 " To thee, though thou no more can'st come to me." 
 « • * * • 
 
 My dream was o'er, I woke, and felt the fresh, 
 Cool air of night upon my brow, and while 
 The gentle breeze was murm'ring 'mid the trees, 
 And shrubs, I mused upon my dream, "thus, thus," 
 I cried, man's joyous hopes, his fairy dreams 
 Of bliss decay, the rose-bud bursts ; we watch 
 It day, bj r day, and hour by hour, fresh charms 
 Appear, 'tis perfect now ! with eager haste 
 The hand is stretched to grasp the lovely flower, 
 Hut ere we call it ours, lo ! one by one 
 The rosy petals fall, and leave a bare 
 And withered stem : how oft we train a dear 
 Canary bird to know and answer when 
 We call, we love to hear its cheerful song, 
 To see it plume its yellow wing, or pick 
 With eager bill the crumbs we spread, but ah I 
 The little bright eyes close, and languid grows 
 The pretty head, the merry song is heard 
 No more, the bird we cherish'd droops and dies. 
 So too with those more dearly lov*d, the child 
 Of promise, fond and fair ; the dearest friends 
 Are sure to die the first ; thus fade our hopes ; 
 Our dear, perhaps, our only child, is gone. 
 But is there no lone little one who needs 
 A mother's love, to take the lost one's place 1 
 Death has removed the faithful friend, but let 
 Us search the lanes, and in some lowly cot 
 Shall we not find a suffering brother whom
 
 THE DREAM. 27 
 
 Some word or act of kindness soon will make 
 
 A friend, whom nought can change ? the petted 
 
 bird's 
 Sweet warbling song is hush'd but still the wild 
 Lark pours its music forth for each and all. 
 The rose has withered, but the daisy blooms, 
 And still its brilliant eye is raised to heaven, 
 Through sun and shade, it still looks up, then let 
 Us do the same ; in sunshiue, smile upon 
 The azure sky, and bless our Father's hand, 
 In mercy sent to guide and cheer ; and should 
 The storm and tempest rise, we'll still look up, 
 And like the daisy humbly hope for days 
 Of brightness, yet to come, convinced that God 
 Doth all things well ; thus ! thus ! we'll tread the 
 
 path. 
 Of life, where thorns and roses mingled grow, 
 With hope our anchor firm and sure, and this 
 Our cry 'mid weal and woe, " Beyond the skies 
 " Are better lands, look up, brave heart, look up."
 
 28 THE LAST SLEEP OF ARGYLE. 
 
 THE LAST SLEEP OF ARGYLE." 
 
 (from a painting.) 
 
 • .."-~. ."•• ■ 
 
 The Marquis of Akoyle (beheaded in the reign of Charles II., 
 for his attachment to the Presbyterian religion, and supposed disaffection 
 to the Royal cause), about half an hour before his death, after dining 
 heartily, fell into a tranquil sleep. One of the Members of the Council, 
 (who had condemned him to death,) desiring to see him, was shown into 
 his cell : there lay Argyle on the verge of eternity, a calm and happy 
 smile upon his lips, sleeping as peacefully as an infant ; remorse seized 
 the conscience stricken man (who had probably himself been bred a 
 Presbyterian), he stood riveted to the spot, and is then supposed to have 
 uttered the following words : — 
 
 " ;&, LEEP on Argyle ! and take thy rest 
 
 $$ Where cruel hands have bound thee, 
 For tranquil thoughts possess thy breast 
 Though dungeon walls surround thee." 
 
 " Sleep on Argyle ! the hour is nigh, 
 
 When thou shalt sleep for ever, 
 As tranquilly shall close thine eye 
 
 When soul and body sever."
 
 THE LAST SLEEP OF ARGYLE. 29 
 
 " Sleep on Argyle ! no troubled dreams 
 
 Disturb thy peaceful slumber, 
 Approving conscience on thee beams, 
 
 Nor pangs of guilt encumber." 
 
 " Sleep on Argyle ! for angels keep 
 
 A vigil o'er thy pillow, 
 And tell of Him who sunk to sleep 
 
 Upon the stormy billow." 
 
 " Sleep on Argyle ! what seest thou now 1 
 
 The skies are rending o'er thee, 
 The martyr's crown adorns thy brow, 
 
 And Heaven beams before thee." 
 
 " Sleep on Argyle ! thy foot no more 
 Shall tread thy native mountains, 
 
 Thou ne'er again shalt hear the roar 
 Of Scotland's sunny fountains." 
 
 " Sleep on Argyle ! more lofty sounds 
 Shall soon with rapture greet thee, 
 
 E'en now the song of joy resounds ; 
 The Seraph bends to meet thee." 
 
 " Sleep on Argyle ! I cannot break 
 
 Thy calm and happy slumber, 
 Some other hand must rudely shake 
 
 When strikes the fatal number." 
 
 " Sleep on Argyle ! the angels press 
 
 A holy kiss upon thee, 
 Thy faith and constancy they bless, 
 
 And lovingly gaze on thee."
 
 30 WAX FLOWERS. 
 
 " Sleep on Argyle ! but as for me 
 I dare not think of dying, 
 
 I live a life of misery 
 
 My ancient faith denying." 
 
 " Sleep on Argyle ! but now I hear 
 The word of doom is spoken, 
 
 The men of death are drawing near 
 Argyle ! thy dream is broken ! " 
 
 WAX FLOWERS 
 
 <*v?,HERE ! ye arc finish'd flowers of wax ! 
 •+&■ I'll place ye in the waiting vase 
 And gaze upon my handiwork. 
 They tell me ye are fair ; but ah ! 
 How different from living flowers 
 Which the Creator's hand has made. 
 For hours with busy hands I've sat 
 To mould your slight and fragile forms 
 And trace each petal's graceful curve. 
 But they, the garden's brilliant gems, 
 The jewels of the woods and fields, 
 Are fashion'd 'neath no shining knife. 
 Jehovah's mighty hand was raised. 
 The rose's blushing buds unfold. 
 The lily blooms, a perfect flower.
 
 WAX FLOWERS. 31 
 
 And oh ! how very beautiful, 
 
 The nearer as we view, fresh charms, 
 
 Fresh wonders fix the ravish'd eight ; 
 
 Or magnify a simple leaf, 
 
 Millions of tiny cells we find 
 
 Close piled, compose the wondrous whole, 
 
 O'er which is drawn the thin, clear film, 
 
 So thin, that through it may be seen, 
 
 The lightest, branched, and curving vein. 
 
 Thou Great Creator ! Lord of all, 
 
 How grand, how mighty are Thy works, 
 
 The daisy to the stately tree, 
 
 All bear the impress of Thy hand. 
 
 Oh ! who can look upon a flower, 
 
 And then maintain, " There is no God," 
 
 No God ! and could the blushing rose, 
 
 In all its pride from nothing spring ? 
 
 Go to the vales thou Atheist ! 
 
 And view the fragile lily there. 
 
 Robed in its garb of verdant green, 
 
 And bending as in prayer to God, 
 
 So bend in adoration too, 
 
 Repentant go, and sin no more. 
 
 Ye waxen flowers, I blush to think, 
 
 That hand of mine should ever dare, 
 
 To imitate my Maker's works, 
 
 But, no ! I have not toiled in vain, 
 
 Go forth ! and tell my loving friends 
 
 That she who formed ye thinks of them, 
 
 And bid them sometimes think of her, 
 
 Cheer them in winter's darksome days 
 
 With hopeful thoughts of coming spring. 
 
 Go to the sick man's chamber, let 
 
 Your fragile forms remind him too, 
 
 Of joyous woods and sunnny hills, 
 
 Where once in health's bright reign he roam'd
 
 32 HE WAITED 'NEATH THE TREES. 
 
 Forgetful that the hour of pain, 
 
 Sooner or later comes to all : 
 
 Tell him, "The God who made the flowers, 
 
 " In mercy thus has laid him low, 
 
 " To wean him from the things of earth." 
 
 Then breathe, oh breathe of heaven's bliss, 
 
 His weary eye will brighten, when 
 
 He thinks of that transcendent land. 
 
 Where wintry winds can never come, 
 
 To nip the rose's opening bud. 
 
 And crush the lily's tender form. 
 
 Ye waxen flowers, be this your work. 
 
 Go forth ! your silent lesson teach. 
 
 E'en when the hands that fashioned ye, 
 
 Have crumbled to their kindred dust. 
 
 HE WAITED 'NEATH THE TREES.' 
 
 '<|pIS hright and sunny morning now, and Donald 
 ~V^ waiting stands, 
 He leans upon his gallant steed, the reins are in his 
 
 hands ; 
 " whither roams my lady love 1 " impatiently he 
 
 cries, 
 And often up the winding lane, lie turns his eager eyes. 
 
 " The dew upon the rose's leaf is fading fast away, 
 
 " My Marion, my Marion, oh wherefore this delay 
 
 " With breath of flowerets scented, comes the soft and 
 
 balmy hreeze, 
 " And gently waves the branches of the weeping willow 
 
 trees."
 
 HE WAITED 'NEATH THE TREES. 33 
 
 "Tho wild bird's thrilling carolling comes wafting to 
 
 mine ear, 
 " Thy voice, my own sweet singing-bird it glads me now 
 
 to hear ; 
 " There's music in its gentle tone like murm'ring of 
 
 the sea, 
 " No other sounds on earth, can e'er bo half so dear 
 
 to mo." 
 
 " The blooming rose bud's deepest blush is pale beside 
 
 thy cheek, 
 " Thy dark eyes sparkling lustre makes the dew-drop's 
 
 glitter weak, 
 " To Donald's eye the brilliant flowers, the blue and 
 
 glowing sky 
 " Shine brighter, far more brightly when the star of 
 
 Cerne is nigh." 
 
 " Then haste thee, haste, my Marion, Mazeppa will 
 
 not stand, 
 " No word of mine can tame him, like the touch of 
 
 thy soft hand ; 
 "For well he knows thy gentle step, and bounds to 
 
 meet thee love, 
 " His spirit soothed to tenderness, and patient as a dove." 
 
 He ceases, — through the arching boughs he sees a white 
 
 robe gleam, 
 And on a form of loveliness, the golden sunbeams 
 
 stream, 
 'Tis Marion ! 'tis Marion ! whose light and gentle tread, 
 Just bends to earth, but cannot crush the daisy's tender 
 
 head. 
 
 She comes ! she comes ! her raven hair floats like a 
 
 cloud behind, 
 The scarf around her bosom white, is waving in the 
 
 wind ;
 
 34 HE WAITED 'NEATH THE TREES. 
 
 She hastens on ! her fairy foot trips o'er the velvet 
 
 turf, 
 As lightly as the sea-bird's wing doth skim the hillows 
 
 6urf. 
 
 Her snowy arms extended with a free and artless grace, 
 In one small hand a lily hlooms, pure as her own 
 
 sweet face ; 
 She longs to gain hershelt'ring ark, like timid frigthened 
 
 Dove, 
 Oh Marion is heautiful ! — and well may Donald love. 
 
 And now beneath the willow trees, two loving spirits 
 
 stand ; 
 The lily hud has fallen from the maiden's gentle hand, 
 She leans upon that manly hreast, where heats a nohlc 
 
 heart, 
 As true as ever made the tear of hliss from heauty start. 
 
 And Donald gazes on those eyes, whose tranquil glance 
 
 proclaims, 
 A soul of equal loveliness within that hosom reigns ; 
 He joys to think his arms enfold a gem of costly worth, 
 A love that nought can ever change ; oh what's more 
 
 fair on earth 1 
 
 
 KNEEL AND PRAY, 
 
 csfoNEEL and pray, the dawn of morning 
 $f> Gleams upon the ocean's hreast, 
 Rainbow tints the wave adorning, 
 Gild the sailor's place of rest.
 
 KNEEL AND PRAY. 35 
 
 Kneel and pray, the sun departing 
 Goes to lighten other lands, 
 Eve's pale star to life is starting, 
 Night has call'd her shining bands. 
 
 Kneel and pray, the blooming roses 
 Sweetly scent the balmy air, 
 Clad in verdant garb reposes 
 Springtide's gem the lily fair. 
 
 Kneel and pray, the flowers have faded, 
 Clouds of darkness veil the sky, 
 Winter's hand the scene has shaded, 
 Hush'd and still the streamlets lie. 
 
 Kneel and pray, with holy feeling, 
 When thou see'st the youthful bride 
 Robed in snowy garments kneeling 
 By her future husband's side. 
 
 Kneel and pray, when mourners weeping, 
 To the grave their lov'd have borne, 
 There to leave her calmly sleeping, 
 'Till the judgment day shall dawn. 
 
 Kneel and pray, when pastors station 
 Eound the altar, young and fair, 
 To receive their confirmation, 
 With the Bishop's earnest prayer. 
 
 Kneel and pray, when torn with anguish, 
 Sorrow heaves thy anxious breast, 
 When thy weary heart doth languish, 
 For a world of perfect rest. 
 
 Kneel and pray, in hours of gladness, 
 When the cup of joy is thine, 
 Quaff it not with giddy madness. 
 Bless the Giver's hand divine.
 
 36 THE WEDDING. 
 
 Kneel ami pray, in Life's first morning, 
 Spotless brow, and gem-bright eye, 
 Rosy blush the cheek adorning, 
 Like the flowers, will fade and die. 
 
 Kneel and pray, in hours of danger, 
 Death may hover o'er thy head, 
 Let not God be as a stranger 
 But a friend in all thy need. 
 
 Kneel and pray, when youth has left thee, 
 Flatt'rers then will pass thee by, 
 Time of beauty has bereft thee, 
 Years have dimm'd thy sparkling eye. 
 
 Kneel and pray, ere Death's cold finger, 
 Takes the power of speech away ; 
 Child of earth ! no longer linger, 
 Clasp thy hands, and kneel and pray. 
 
 " Kneel and pray," the winds are sighing, 
 Echo chides the long delay, 
 Birds to heaven's blue archway flying, 
 Sing in chorus, " kneel and pray." 
 
 TH E WEDDING 
 
 ^fe>ARK ! hark ! they come — the bridal train 
 ^^ Pass slowly up the lofty aisle, 
 'Mid whisper'd blessings from the hearts, 
 Of village friends assembled there. — 
 The organ's melting tones have ceased ;
 
 THE WEDDING. 
 
 And while the echo dies away, 
 Before their God, lo ! side by side, 
 Behold the bride and bridegroom stand. — 
 The aged pastor's deep rich voice, 
 Begins the solemn service, while 
 A ray of golden sun-light streams 
 Upon the white-robed bride, and tints 
 With light the orange-flowers, that deck 
 Her ebon hair : behind her stand 
 Her girlhood's friends, they too are robed 
 In white, each head is circled with 
 A wreath of holly, twined with the 
 Pure snowdrop's pearly buds, a veil 
 Of silken texture floats around 
 Each graceful form, like the soft clouds 
 That shade the brilliant orbs of night. 
 But hark ! the gentle bride has breathed 
 In trembling voice those solemn words, 
 " I will," and now more firmly comes, 
 The manly bridegroom's vow — " I wed, 
 " With all my worldly goods I thee endow.- 
 " Those awful words have passed your lips, 
 " Ye wedded pair ! — what have ye said ? 
 " The angel hosts of heaven have caught, 
 " The sound and traced it in the book 
 " On high. God give ye strength to do, 
 " As ye have sworn ! " But see they kneel, 
 Each head is lowly bent in prayer, 
 While like rich, fragrant incense falls, 
 The reverend pastor's blessing, on 
 Those drooping forms. hear great God 
 Of heaven, Lord of earth and sky, 
 List to that father's prayer, oh bless 
 Them, aud they shall be blest. 
 
 Hark 1 hark I 
 The bells peal forth the wedding chimes,
 
 38 PARTING. 
 
 And shouts ascend from grateful hearts 
 
 To greet the bride and bridegroom, as 
 
 They pass along the flower-strewn path. — 
 
 " Friends of the sick and poor, farewell ! 
 
 " We bless ye, as ye go, our eyes 
 
 " Grow dim, to think we ne'er again 
 
 " May meet your kind and gentle smiles. — 
 
 " Go to the stranger's sunny land, 
 
 " And blessings on ye rest, fond pair, — 
 
 " There brighter skies and fairer flowers 
 
 " Shall welcome ye, but hearts more true 
 
 " Than English ones, ye cannot, will 
 
 ,; Not find ! Go onward in the march 
 
 " Of life ; ye will not always tread 
 
 " On flowers as now ye do, nor wish 
 
 " It so ; if cv'ry day was fine 
 
 " The Olive would not yield its fruit, 
 
 " Nor would the Christian's soul grow ripe, 
 
 " For heaven, if clouds of sorrow cast 
 
 " No gloom o'er the wide sea of life. — 
 
 " Husband and wife go forth ! firm in 
 
 " Your holy love ; the distance hides 
 
 " Ye from my sight, farewell ! again 
 
 " God bless ye, and ye sltall be blest ! " 
 
 PARTIN G 
 
 #HEN those we love have left us, 
 How former pleasures cloy ; 
 They seem to have bereft us 
 Of all that gave us joy.
 
 PARTING. 
 
 The last farewell is spoken, 
 The last fond kiss bestow'd, 
 And then the heart seems broken 
 Beneath its heavy load. 
 
 We miss their smiling faces 
 Though fairer ones are nigh, 
 And on their vacant places 
 We gaze with tearful eye. 
 
 We miss them when we wander 
 Beside the rippling brook, 
 Or sitting lonely ponder, 
 O'er some beloved book. 
 
 The music of their voices, 
 No longer meets the ear, 
 The heart no more rejoices 
 Their gladsome laugh to hear. 
 
 When night clouds float above us 
 And stars their vigil keep, 
 The forms of those who love us, 
 Bend o'er us in our sleep. 
 
 We hear their whisper'd blessings, 
 We feel their prayerful kiss, 
 And take their fond caressings 
 With tears of joyful bliss. 
 
 But waking on the morrow 
 We mourn the vision flown, 
 And joy is turned to sorrow 
 To find ourselves alone. 
 
 The hours of sleep have vanished 
 With all their visions bright, 
 And those so dear are banish'd 
 Still longer from our sight.
 
 40 WALES. 
 
 Since absence has removed them 
 We miss them ev'ry day, 
 We knew not how we lov'd them 
 'Till they were far away. 
 
 WALES, 
 
 .^AMBRIA 1 land of the valley and mountain 1 
 f%? Well might the harper his country adore I 
 England may boast of her garden and fountain, 
 Tliou hast the chasm and cataract's roar ! 
 
 Home of the hardy 1 how dearly I love thee, 
 E'en though thou art not the land of my birth, 
 Spirits of patriots hovering above thee, 
 Tell of the past to the children of earth. 
 
 Oft when the valleys are peacefully sleeping, 
 Wailings I hear in the voice of the gale, 
 When their sad watch on the mountain tops keeping 
 Forms of departed ones mourn o'er the vale. 
 
 There on his now silent lyre reclining 
 Leans the dim ghost of the Harper of old, 
 Willow amid his grey locks is entwining, 
 Dews of the night on his forehead lie cold. 
 
 Never again shall those harp-strings resounding 
 Blend with his voice in the echoing song, 
 Gone are the days when with hearts lightly bounding, 
 Children of Freedom around him would throng.
 
 WALES. 41 
 
 Cambria ! where is thy once boasted glory, 
 Green grows the turf o'er the patriot's grave, 
 Famed in the heart-stirring annals of story, 
 Land of Llewellyn the gallant and brave ! 
 
 Now on the mountain the shepherd is tending, 
 Whistling a ditty to flock grazing there, 
 Down in the vale 'neath the sickle is bending, 
 Fruit of the husbandman's labor and care. 
 
 Wander along with the mountain rill swelling, 
 Kiver of beauty, flow on mighty Wye ! 
 Lovers of peace on thy verdant banks dwelling, 
 Smile, as thy waters glide tranquilly by. 
 
 Wales ! bonny Wales ! thou art dearer than ever, 
 Hush'd are the tumult and clamour of war, 
 Loved ones in tears now no longer need sever, 
 Bloodshed and rapine shall vex them no more. 
 
 Land of the mountain we all but adore thee, 
 Give me my home on the banks of the Wye ! 
 Tear me from thence, and ye cannot restore me, 
 Place that on earth, hath a value so high 1
 
 42 LAMENT OF AMY, COUNTESS OF LEICESTER. 
 
 LAMENT 
 
 OF AMY, COUNTESS OF LEICESTER. 
 
 £-*0 E ICESTER ' from *ky presence banish'd, 
 V ? r^ Must the wretched Amy die, 
 All her dreams of greatness vanish'd, 
 Gladness yields to sorrow's sigh 1 " 
 
 " Blooming in its woodland bower, 
 Seen by few and little known, 
 He who found the simple flower, 
 Stooped, and culled it for his own." 
 
 Dudley I would that thou hadstlcft it, 
 
 Happy in its native air, 
 
 Than thus early have bereft it, 
 
 Of thy shielding love and care." 
 
 " England's monarch may caress thee, 
 Make thy path with splendour rife, 
 But her lips shall never bless thee, 
 Like thy fond, and faithful wife. 
 
 " Soon the welcome tomb for ever, 
 Shall this fragile body hide, 
 Then the angel's voice shall sever, 
 Leicester, from his injured bride."
 
 THE FIRST SPEING BUTTERFLY. 43 
 
 •' When the faithless have oppressed thee, 
 Wilt thou mourn thy Amy's death ? 
 Weep for her who dying blest thee, 
 Blest thee, with her parting breath 1 " 
 
 THE FIRST SPRING BUTTERFLY. 
 
 <jv|HE first, the first, Spring Butterfly 
 s£- Has burst its prison cell, 
 And sports beneath the azure sky, 
 Where fairest flowerets dwell. 
 
 It sips the rose's honey 'd dew, 
 And all its sweetness tests, 
 Trips lightly o'er the violet blue, 
 And on the tulip rests. 
 
 The tiny foot is resting now, 
 On dancing heather bell, 
 And then to meet it gently bow, 
 The lilies of the dell. 
 
 The flapping of its airy wings, 
 Makes music low and sweet, 
 And ev'ry flower its incense brings, 
 The fairy form to greet. 
 
 On, on, it speeds as light as air 
 To glad the gazer's eye, 
 O where is there a thing more fair, 
 Than spring's first butterfly ?
 
 44 THE FIRST SPRING BUTTERFLY. 
 
 The laughing child to chase it starts, 
 With cheek of rosy hue, 
 And young and old with joyful hearts, 
 Its airy passage view. 
 
 Dear harhinger of summer's hloom, 
 Thou bringest joy to all, 
 Thy advent gilds the clouds of gloom, 
 Round sorrows sable pall. 
 
 For thou dost teach the aching heart, 
 To yield to calmer grief, 
 And tears of gentler feeling start, 
 To give the soul relief. 
 
 The sick man sees thee flitting by, 
 With gaily painted wing, 
 And rapture lights his languid eye, 
 To welcome back the spring. 
 
 He sees thee resting on the flowers, 
 
 And quite forgets his pain, 
 
 While thoughts of childhood's sunny hours, 
 
 Come floating back again. 
 
 Once more in fancy's pleasing dream, 
 He roams the meadow wild, 
 And sports where golden sunbeams gleam, 
 A gay and laughing child. — 
 
 But happier thoughts than even these, 
 Thy cheering presence brings, 
 When fluttering in the gentle breeze, 
 Thy form to being springs. 
 
 Like thee, awhile beneath the earth, 
 This mortal frame shall lie, 
 Then waking to a second birth, 
 Shall soar to worlds on high.
 
 THE FIRST SPRING BUTTERFLY. 
 
 Yet not like thee thou fragile thing, 
 Whom wintry winds destroy 1 
 The soul shall never fold its wing, 
 Nor weary of its joy. 
 
 But thou must die, oh 1 child of air, 
 When summer flowers shall fade, 
 For like the rose and lily fair, 
 Thou wert for sunshine made. 
 
 Sport on ! sport on ! and gladness bring, 
 Amid thine own dear flowers, 
 Sport on where fairest roses spring, 
 In Flora's gayest bowers. 
 
 Sport on, sport on, but yet the tear, 
 Will dim the mourner's eye, 
 For where are they who saw last year, 
 The First Spring Butterfly ? 
 
 The young and fair, those smiling bands, 
 Who gaily hailed its birth, 
 Where are they ? — gone to heavenly lands, 
 Passed from this lower earth. 
 
 We watch thee now, and by us stand, 
 Those dearest to our heart, 
 But ere next year Death's iron hand, 
 May bid those forms depart. 
 
 The days of spring shall come again, 
 And summer flowers shall wave, 
 But those on which thou resteat then, 
 May deck our own low grave.
 
 40 THE CHRISTMAS TREE. 
 
 THE CHRISTMAS TREE 
 
 ry, HE snow was falling thick and fast, 
 v While hoarsely howled the wintry blast, 
 Without the worthy Hector's door, 
 And roughly shook with angry roar, 
 Each lofty tree now sear and bare, 
 That stood in stately grandeur there. — 
 The night was dark, and in the sky, 
 No star appear'd to glad the eye, 
 Or cast a faint enlivening glow, 
 Upon the snow-clad earth below. 
 Together round the rectory fire, 
 Sat Rector, Curate, Farmer, Squire, 
 The first was one whose gentle voice, 
 Oft bade the widow's heart rejoice, 
 Whose smile had dried the orphan's tears, 
 And calm'd the aged pilgrim's fears. 
 The soul by Satan led astray, 
 He turn'd again to Wisdom's way, 
 And made the harden'd sinner feel, 
 The wounds that Christ alone can heal, 
 To him the sad and suffering came, 
 And all who knew him blest his name, 
 Though nearly sixty years had shed, 
 Their joys and sorrows o'er his head, 
 Yet was he ever active still. 
 To do his Heavenly Master's will. 
 But now the worthy Rector's eye, 
 Bore traces of anxiety,
 
 THE CHRISTMAS TREE. 47 
 
 The smile so wont his lips to grace, 
 To looks of care had given place, 
 In thoughtful silence now he sat, 
 Regardless of the lively chat, 
 That pass'd between his friends and wife, 
 On varied scenes of village life, 
 Which they within their active sphere, 
 Had daily viewed from year to year. 
 Yet much the kind and loving dame, 
 Had wonder'd whence the sorrow came, 
 That cast so deep a shade of thought, 
 O'er one so honour'd, lov'd, and sought, 
 By all who knew how great a mind, 
 United to a heart as kind, 
 Made him a faithful friend in truth, 
 To rich and poor, old age and youth ; 
 Thus mused the worthy wife, but still 
 She touch'd not on the boding ill, 
 But waited as a good wife should, 
 Her lord to tell her if he would, 
 At length he spake, "dear wife, and you 
 " Whom time has prov'd as firm and true, 
 " As trusting heart could e'er desire, 
 "Your friendly aid I now require, 
 "To save from hunger's open hand, 
 " A widow and her infant band. 
 " This morning when my walks I took, 
 " I passed that cottage by the brook, 
 " Where since her worthy husband died, 
 " The honest widow Jones has tried, 
 '' To gain by labour of her hands, 
 " Enough to check the loud demands, 
 " Of five dear children, small and fair, 
 " Too young to know the anxious care, 
 " With which she sat till late at night, 
 " By the dim candle's trying light,
 
 48 THE CHRISTMAS TREE. 
 
 " To make or mend some little dress ; 
 " With all a mother's tenderness, 
 " As o'er the work her fingers sped, 
 " She oft would raise her weary head, 
 " To gaze upon those children dear, 
 " Who conscious of her presence near. 
 " Slept on from thoughts of sorrow free, 
 " The calm, sweet sleep of infancy. 
 " Thus has she toiled, and none can know, 
 " How oft with bitter pangs of woe, 
 " She earned her darlings' daily bread. 
 " But still she murmured not, 'tis said, 
 " That she is cold and proud, but I, 
 " No glance of arrogance could spy, 
 " In her mild eye, that seems to sa}', 
 " " "lis by a strait and narrow way, 
 " " I journey on to heaven's gate, 
 " " But there expectant angels wait, 
 " " To bear my soul to God, who will 
 " " Protect and guide my children still, 
 " " And fold them in his arms to rest, 
 " " By want and care no more opprest." 
 " I knew she must be very poor, 
 " And would not pass the open door, 
 " Without just looking in, to see 
 " What best could aid her poverty, 
 " She smiled, when I appear'd, but yet 
 " Her cheeks with recent tears were wet, 
 " And soon I found grief 's heavy hand, 
 " Was laid upon that little band : 
 " The children seated on the ground, 
 " Were gather'd round a noble hound, 
 " On whom they lavish'd kind caress, 
 " And words of love and gentleness, 
 " The eldest girl of seven years, 
 " Her violet eyes bedimmed with tears,
 
 THE CHRISTMAS TREE. 4!) 
 
 " Had thrown her arms around his neck, 
 
 " And when I enter'd tried to check, 
 
 " Her sobs of sorrow, but in vain ! 
 
 " O'ercome with grief she sunk again 
 
 " Upon her fav'rite's curly head, 
 
 " While o'er his jetty coat was spread, 
 
 " Her long fair hair in ringlets bright, 
 
 " Like golden streams of sunny light, 
 
 '• The mourner sees in sorrow fall, 
 
 " Upon some lov'd one's funeral pall. 
 
 " Alas ! how sad is childhood's grief, 
 
 " Though like the showers of summer brief, 
 
 " 'Tis very sad to see the face, 
 
 li Of innocence, and artless grace, 
 
 " One moment shaded by those tears, 
 
 " So freely shed in after years. — 
 
 " The widow saw that I was pain'd, 
 
 " And in few words their grief explain'd, 
 
 " " The rent was due, and all in vain, 
 
 " li She toil'd the needful sum to gain, 
 
 " " This last has been a trying year, 
 
 « " For W ork was scarce, and bread was dear, 
 
 " " And now the faithful dog must go, 
 
 " <; To save from ruin and from woe, 
 
 " " His mates in games of romping play, 
 
 " " Through summer's long and sunny da}'. 
 
 " " 'Tis hard, 'tis very hard to part, 
 
 " "With those so knitted to our heart, 
 
 " '• So linked in memory's golden chain, 
 
 " " With one we ne'er shall see again, 
 
 " " But I had nothing else to sell, 
 
 " " We know he will be treated well, 
 
 " " The squire of the village near, 
 
 " '• Will hold our faithful Hector dear, 
 
 " " And we to-day must bid adieu, 
 
 " " To one who ne'er has proved untrue,
 
 CO THE CHRISTMAS TREE. 
 
 " •■ Though oft his food was scant and poor."' ' 
 " She stayed— her tale of grief was o'er, 
 <• I'd heard it with an aching heart, 
 
 '• And felt the. gathering tear-drops start, 
 
 " As promising to come again, 
 
 " I sought once more the winding lauc, 
 
 " And homeward bent my steps, and tried 
 
 " On some lix'd project to decide, 
 
 " Wherchy wo best can succour give, 
 
 " And help our suffering friends to live. 
 
 " Now can't this worthy woman rule 
 
 " The children of our village school ? 
 
 " For since the good old dame is dead, 
 
 " We want some one to take the head, 
 
 " And see that all the teachers there, 
 
 " Tend to their charge with proper care. 
 
 " 'Twill be a happy day for me, 
 
 " If I should ever live to see, 
 
 " The widow in that pretty cot, 
 
 " With all her former woes forgot, 
 
 " In training up our village youth, 
 
 " In ways of holiness and truth ; 
 
 " And as my worthy friends you know, 
 
 " Our school funds still are very low, , 
 
 " The thought has just occurred to mc, 
 
 " That we might have a Christmas Tree. 
 
 " Now aid me friends, as best you can, 
 
 " To carry out, this little plan." 
 
 • • * • • 
 
 A month has pass'd, and now once more, 
 
 We seek the worthy Rector's door, 
 
 And tread his lofty hall, but lo ! 
 
 Whence comes this sudden brilliant glow, 
 
 What means this busy throng we sec ? 
 
 Hark ! hark ! they cry " The Christmas Tree." 
 
 Yes, bending 'neath its varied load,
 
 THE CHRISTMAS TREE. 
 
 Of gifts by gen'rous hands bestow'd, 
 
 Surrounded by an eager band, 
 
 Of those who came with ready hand, 
 
 To aid the cause of Charity, 
 
 Appears the widow's " Christmas Tree." 
 
 But where is he whose gen'rous mind, 
 
 Ever inclin'd to actions kind, 
 
 First bade him raise his pleading voice, 
 
 In aid of those who now rejoice. 
 
 That God hath heard their earnest prayer, 
 
 And sent them help from all their care. 
 
 Ah ! see the dear old man is found, 
 
 His laughing jailors gather round, 
 
 And cry. "he shall escape no more, 
 
 " For one is waiting here to pour 
 
 " Her blessings on his aged head." 
 
 She breathes his name, few words are said, 
 
 But oh ! the language of that eye, 
 
 Proclaims a gratitude too high, 
 
 Too deep for words to tell, — her hand 
 
 Is pointed where her children stand, 
 
 Oh, what a happy sight is there, 
 
 The thoughtful look of early care, 
 
 Has vanish'd from each little face, 
 
 And tears to smiles have given place, 
 
 As now with joyful hearts they see 
 
 Tether'd beneath that Christmas Tree, 
 
 Their dear old dog, whose owner kind, 
 
 His valued fav'rite has resign'd, 
 
 To those who hold him still more dear ; 
 
 And he has kept him waiting here, 
 
 To cause a glad surprise, the chain 
 
 Is quickly loosed and once again, 
 
 Poor Hector bounds with noisy joy, 
 
 To each fair girl and laughing boy, 
 
 Who lavish kiss and fond caress,
 
 THE CHRISTMAS TREE. 
 
 And lisp how great their happiness, 
 To see their playmate back once more. 
 To these the widow turns, and o'er, 
 Her wither'd cheek the tears roll fast, 
 But they are tears of bliss, for past 
 Are all those thoughts of care, 
 She felt for those now playing there, 
 She now a livelihood can gain, 
 
 Her prayers have not been breath 'd in vain. 
 
 • • » • • 
 
 " Oh ! thou whose gen'rous heart has plan'd, 
 
 This deed of mere}-, by thee stand, 
 
 The angels of thy Father God. 
 
 For thou from youth to age hast trod, 
 
 The path of truth, and even now 
 
 Though white the locks upon thy brow, 
 
 Thy face still wears the smile of peace, 
 
 For he thou servest will not cease, 
 
 To aid the faithful heart, for thee 
 
 To heaven's high arch shall offer'd be, 
 
 The grateful widow's earnest prayer, 
 
 And angels to the throne shall bear, 
 
 The orphan's blessing on thy name. 
 
 Farewell ! farewell ! the flickering flame 
 
 Is fading in the lamp of life, 
 
 And victory soon shall end the strife, 
 
 Between the world and thee, ere long 
 
 The glittering seraph's joyous song, 
 
 Shall burst upon thy list'ning ear, 
 
 Soon must the poor man's honest tear, 
 
 Lament his ever faithful friend, 
 
 But then shall white-robed angels bend, 
 
 To bear thy ransom'd soul away, 
 
 To realms of everlasting day, 
 
 With Him thou serv'st on earth to dwell, 
 
 For evermore. Farewell ! Farewell ! "
 
 A PLEA FOR THE ORPHAN. 
 
 A PLEA FOR THE ORPHAN. 
 
 cvtuATHER, with such love and pride, 
 ^ Gazing on thy daughter fair, 
 She is happy by thy side, 
 Shelter'd 'neath thy fostering care. 
 If, to-morrow thou shouldst die, 
 Where would he thy darling's joy 1 
 List then to our pleading cry, 
 For our helpless, orphan boy." 
 
 " Mother I by that tear of bliss 
 Trembling in thy beaming eye, 
 As to take "Mamma's sweet kiss." 
 Thou hast heard thy firstborn cry ; 
 Soon may death with finger cold, 
 Grasp of tenderness destroy, 
 Wilt thou then thy help with-hold 
 From our gentle orphan boy." 
 
 " Brother 1 if that sister dear, 
 Leaning on thy sturdy arm, 
 Guardian spirit doth appear, 
 Bidding passion's tumult calm, 
 Think ! if none had ever taught, 
 Mind and hand their right employ, 
 Would she be what woman ought, 
 Plead then for the orphan boy.
 
 5-i THE POET. 
 
 " Sister! -with thy trembling hand, 
 Resting on that golden hair, 
 When the gentle infant band, 
 Kneeling, lisp their evening prayer, 
 Think of homes where early grief, 
 Dims the light of childhood's joy, 
 Hasten then to give relief 
 For our helpless, orphan boy." 
 
 " Happy Parents 1 round ye twine 
 Beings raised in tenderness, 
 Think of him whose hand divine, 
 Deigned the little ones to bless, 
 Grateful for the blessings given, 
 Will ye not your means employ, 
 Aiding us to train for heaven, 
 England's gentle, orphan boy ? " 
 
 TH E POET. 
 
 (fy^HE Poet 1 the dreamy, and pensive one ! 
 ~\^ The world cannot fathom his joy, 
 For Poesy gives to her favor'd son, 
 A rapture that none can destroy. 
 
 He roams through the fields, and the humblest 
 
 flower 
 Doth whisper of beauty and love, 
 The ivy-clad ruin, and woodland bower, 
 The blue arch of heaven above.
 
 THE POET. I 
 
 The birds, as they warble their love-notes clear, 
 The leaves as they dance in the breeze, 
 All, all, to the Poet's glad heart are dear, 
 The things he delights in, are these.' — 
 
 He stands on the shore of the mighty sea, 
 The mariner's boisterous home, 
 And watches the waves as they backward flee, 
 Or feather the pebbles with foam. 
 
 The moan of the billows as music sweet, 
 Does fall on his sensitive ear, 
 Each pulse of his heart doth in rapture beat, 
 "While hoarsely the winds whistle near. 
 
 His cheek becomes pale, and his eye more bright, 
 When melody floats through the air, 
 While quivering lip, and tear-bedimm'd sigh, 
 The depth of his feelings declare. 
 
 The mountainous height, and the chasm dread, 
 Bring thoughts of the grand and sublime, 
 While peace in the valley beneath him spread, 
 To feelings more gentle beats time. 
 
 The crowded assembly may dazzle the gay, 
 CJharm those who to folly are prone, 
 The heart of the Poet is far away, 
 In crowds he is weary and lone. 
 
 The Poet I the gentle and Christian one, 
 The being of delicate mould, 
 How keenly he mourns o'er, and tries to shun, 
 The world, and its denizens cold. 
 
 He turns from the sneer, and the laugh of scorn, 
 And shrinks from the jest that's impure, 
 While flattery's praise, and deceivers fawn, 
 With patience, he scarce can endure.
 
 56 LISTEN. 
 
 Yet who like the Toet so gently calms, 
 The sorrows he meets in his way, 
 The orphan he takes in hie friendly arms, 
 And teaches the widow to pray. 
 
 Though oft as he roams through this trial land. 
 
 The sad tear of sympathy flows, 
 
 Still ever he points with uplifted hand, 
 
 On high, where his troubles shall close. 
 
 Thus blessing, and blest as he glides along, 
 In peace, as the deep waters' flow ; 
 The joys, and the pains of the Son of Song, 
 None, none, but a Poet can know. 
 
 LISTEN 
 
 ^ISTEN ! hark ! 'tis the old man's word, 
 $P He bewails the ways of men, 
 Think how much he has seen and heard, 
 In his three score years and ten, 
 He has wept o'er the promise fair 
 That has fled, and love grown cold, 
 Time and sorrow bring hoary hair, 
 Ye should love, and heed the old.
 
 SMILES AND TEAKS. 
 
 Listen ! hark 1 'tis the joyous voice, 
 
 Of a child has caught mine ear, 
 
 " Fomi of hrightness ! make now thy choice, 
 
 'Mid the good and lovely here," 
 
 Weary man to the infant turn, 
 
 He will show thee joy in all, 
 
 Truths that sages could never learn, 
 
 From the lips of childhood fall. 
 
 Listen 1 hark 1 'tis the earnest prayer, 
 Of a tried and tempted one, 
 Meekly bearing her cross of care, 
 'Till the sands of life are run ; 
 'Reft of health, while her kindred dear, 
 Are at rest beneath the sod, 
 Unbeliever ! bear witness here, 
 To the might of faith in God. 
 
 SMILES AND TEARS, 
 
 ;& MILES and tears, ye never parted, 
 t^J Blended from our early years, 
 Grave and gay, faint or stout hearted, 
 All must meet with smiles and tears. 
 Like the raindrop on the rose 
 Sadness o'er our gladness flows. 
 
 Smiles and tears.
 
 MY COTTAGE HOME. 
 
 Friends may meet in sweet communion, 
 Heart to heart its transport tell, 
 But to end earth's holiest union, 
 Comes the mournful " fare-thee-well." 
 Vet to dry our bitter tears, 
 Hope, smiling hope appears, 
 
 Smiles and tears. 
 
 Smiles and tears, but ye must sever, 
 In the blessed spirit land. 
 Smiles, not tears shall reign for ever, 
 'Mid the happy angel band, 
 Earth-shed tears as jewels rare, 
 Crown each holy Seraph there, 
 
 Smiles, no tears. 
 
 MY COTTAGE HOME. 
 
 V %>ASS on ye gay in the festive hall, 
 V<5 To the strains of music there, 
 "Where notes of gladness and laughter fall, 
 From the lips of young and fair, 
 But lady, munj' will sigh for rest, 
 'Neath that stately dome of thine, 
 With all thy wealth, I am far more blest, 
 In this Cottage Home of mine.
 
 MY COTTAGE HOME. S9 
 
 No sweeter music hath charms for me, 
 
 Than the songs of nature's band, 
 
 The birds that sing in each bush and tree, 
 
 Make my garden fairy land ; 
 
 My pets, the Robins, a gentle pair, 
 
 Have their nest in yonder vine, 
 
 And come by turns for their daily fare, 
 
 To this Cottage Home of mine. 
 
 Exotic blossoms perfume the air, 
 
 In the home of rank and pride, 
 
 But see this rose, can it not compare, 
 
 With the proud one's gaily dyed ? 
 
 Its crimson petals and dark green leaves, 
 
 With the jasmine's stars entwine. 
 
 And woodbine's clusters festoon the eaves, 
 
 Of this Cottage Home of mine. 
 
 No sense of loneliness enters here, 
 Though I must be left so long, 
 The path of duty is ever clear, 
 And to murmur would be wrong. 
 As light my heart as the birds' of air, 
 And as calm as day's decline, 
 My quiet life hath but little care, 
 In this Cottage Home of mine. 
 
 My peaceful home! thou art dearer far, 
 
 Than the whole gay world to me, 
 
 'Tis love that lights thee, a brilliant star, 
 
 That hath bound my heart to thee. 
 
 When years to come bring their weight of care, 
 
 Amid sorrow light will shine, 
 
 And memory cling to the blessings fair, 
 
 Of this Cottage Home of mine
 
 GO ON LOUD PALMEESTON. 
 
 ON LORD PALMERSTON 
 
 <^»ARK ! the voice of sorrow wailing, 
 ^Q 5 England weeps her mighty dead, 
 Sadly o'er the Veteran Statesman, 
 Lo, the funeral pall is spread. 
 
 Rear the lofty sculpture o'er him, 
 Grave the marble with his name, 
 Palmerston 1 the nation mourns thee, 
 Dead to earth, but born to Fame. 
 
 Who shall plead for Right and Justice, 
 Feeling both, with warmth like thine ? 
 In another, can such wisdom 
 With so kind a heart combine. 
 
 Good old man ! thy Country's Father, 
 Rest in peace 1 thy work is done, 
 Bright the track thou leav'st behind thee, 
 Like the rays of setting sun. 
 
 Master mind ! thy works do follow, 
 Tinging fourscore years with gold, 
 Many a year shall Britain grieve thee, 
 Half thy worth remains untold. — 
 
 Search the world to find a better, 
 Or his equal if ye can. 
 History ! write upon thy pages, 
 This was England's greatest man !
 
 WRECK OF THE GORLESTON LIFE BOAT. Gl 
 
 WRECK 
 
 GORLESTON LIFE BOAT, " RESCUER." 
 
 |pHEY'EE lost ! the gallant crew has found, 
 ~V^ The sailor's watery grave, 
 And rest in God's Great Burial Ground, 
 Beneath the heaving wave. 
 
 When next the Life Boat dares the main, 
 Amid the billow's roar ; 
 Some other hands the oars must strain, 
 For these shall row no more. 
 
 All quiet now each throbbing breast, 
 Each arm its work has done, 
 And undisturbed the boatmen rest, 
 When sounds the signal gun ! 
 
 Ah ! little thought the sailor's child, 
 'Twas Father's last adieu, 
 Lament fond wife ! the billows wild, 
 Play o'er the brave and true. 
 
 The sea weed shrouds the noble dead, 
 Their souls have pass'd away, 
 No sounds disturbs their funeral bed, 
 Until the Judgment Day !
 
 CI* LIFE. 
 
 LIFE 
 
 jHAT is life ? a weary journey, 
 " J ^ To a distant better land, 
 Mail, the traveller, sad and fainting, 
 Toiling o'er the burning sand. 
 
 Hope, the mild and patient camel, 
 Bears us through the desert plains, 
 Sinking oft, but growing stronger, 
 Nearer to the end she gains. 
 
 Pain, the sun with scorching fury, 
 Often strikes the throbbing head, 
 Where to shield us from its terrors, 
 Not a sheltering leaf is spread. 
 
 Joys there arc 1 like bright oases, 
 Few alas, and far between. 
 Days of pure, and calm enjoyment, 
 Dimly in the distance seen. 
 
 When we reach them, ah ! how grateful, 
 Is the shelter they afford, 
 While our hearts are tilled with gladness, 
 For the mercies of our Lord.
 
 LIFE. 63 
 
 'Neath the green trees of affection, 
 Resting from the toilsome way, 
 Drinking from the pleasant fountain, 
 Why so short must be our stay. 
 
 There we stop but for a season, 
 No abiding home is there, 
 For we seek another country, 
 Heavenly mansions still more fair. 
 
 Sin with stormy force assails us, 
 Mighty as the dread Simoon, 
 Prostrate then with prayer we conquer, 
 And avert impending doom. 
 
 Dear companions travel with us, 
 Some we lov'd have gone before. 
 They have reach'd the holy kingdom, 
 Happy now to weep no more. 
 
 Oft the weary eye is straining, 
 To obtain the first dim sight, 
 Of that pure eternal city, 
 And its cloudless golden light. 
 
 Gain'd at last that home of glory, 
 Angels swiftly chariots bring, 
 Jesus bids us freely enter, 
 To the palace of our King.
 
 C,+ HEAVEN. 
 
 HEAVEN. 
 
 <Y> IIINK ! think my soul of Heaven, 
 -v That land of Glory bright, 
 
 Where they who are forgiven 
 
 Dwell in unclouded light. 
 
 There happy angels ever sing 
 And praise the God of grace, 
 Their silver harps responsive ring 
 And gladness tills the place. 
 
 No pain can ever enter there 
 And grief's an unknown name, 
 Disease ne'er blights the spirits fair, 
 They ever bloom the same. 
 
 Death stands, without the golden gate 
 Which opens not for him, 
 For they who on the Father wait 
 His shadow cannot dim. 
 
 Black sin, and man's most deadly foe 
 Come not to that fair land, 
 And God has dried the tear of woe 
 With his own gentle hand.
 
 THE DYING MAN. 65 
 
 There angry passions never dare 
 Disturb the peaceful breast, 
 The wicked cease from troubling there, 
 And all the weary rest. 
 
 Think ! think ! my soul of Heaven, 
 That land of glory bright, 
 Where they who are forgiven, 
 Dwell in unclouded light. 
 
 THE DYING MAN 
 
 i$h ORD, 'neath the rod of pain I smart, 
 \p J My strength I know is failing fast, 
 A sword seems piercing through my heart, 
 Each moment now may be my last. 
 
 Methinks I hear a dull low sound, 
 It is the rustling wing of Death, — 
 For angel spirits gather round, 
 And wait to catch my parting breath. 
 
 Kind Saviour lend thy gracious hand, 
 To guide me through this gloomy vale, 
 Oh ! let me see the promised land, 
 Let not my drooping courage fail.
 
 GG "come unto me." 
 
 My sins are deeper than the sea, 
 More num'rous than the stars above, 
 But Tli on, (> Lord, will pardon me, 
 Thou hast redeem'd me God of Love. 
 
 My Father, keep my children dear 
 In wisdom's strait and narrow way, 
 Oh ! bend to earth a list'ning ear, 
 And hear the orphans when they pray. 
 
 Hark ! strains of music greet mine ear. 
 In swelling cadence loud and long, 
 Say, what are those sweet notes, 1 hear ? 
 Ah ! 'tis the seraph's happy song. 
 
 My spirit leaves its house of clay, 
 And soars to other worlds above, 
 To dwell in realms of cloudless day, 
 For ever near the tiod of love. 
 
 1 1 
 
 COME UNTO ME. 
 
 INVITATION. 
 
 jj^OME unto me, O joyous youth, 
 ]s£ In these thy best and brightest days, 
 Come early, choose the path of truth, 
 And walk in wisdom's pleasant ways."
 
 " COME UNTO ME." f>7 
 
 ANSWICR. 
 
 " Yes, Jesus, I will come to thee, 
 To thee, Lord, for help I pray, 
 For many snares are spread for me, 
 Be thou my strong support and stay." 
 
 INVITATION., 
 
 " Come unto me, thou aged one, 
 And hring me all thy griefs and woes, 
 Thy weary race will soon he run, 
 For life is drawing to its close." 
 
 ANSWER. 
 
 " Yes, Jesus, I will come to thee, 
 Bow'd down beneath the weight of years, 
 Thy promises will solace me, 
 And thou wilt quiet all my fears." 
 
 INVITATION. 
 
 " Come unto me, thou who dost weep 
 Low o'er thy infant's lifeless clay, 
 In my fond arms he lies asleep, 
 Sad mourner wipe thy tears away." 
 
 ANSWER. 
 
 " Yes, Jesus, I will come to thee, 
 Though death has laid my lov'd one low, 
 In mercy is the stroke I see, 
 Enable me to bear the blow." 
 
 INVITATION. 
 
 " Come unto me benighted one, 
 Who now dost bow to Gods of stone, 
 But they for thee no deed have done, 
 The Lord of Hosts is God alone."
 
 68 
 
 ANSWER. 
 
 " Yes, Jesus, I will corae to thco, 
 No more to senseless blocks I how, 
 Saviour to thee I bend my knee, 
 The one true God I worship now." 
 
 INVITATION. 
 
 " Come unto me thou who dost stray, 
 Beyond the path of peace and joy, 
 Return again, and humbly pray, 
 Henceforth for me thy life employ." 
 
 ANSWER. 
 
 " Yes, Jesus, I will come to thee, 
 For thou wilt pardon all my sin, 
 Thy precious blood was shed for me, 
 That I eternal life might win." 
 
 INVITATION. 
 
 " Come unto me in pain's dread strife, 
 When moaning sleepless on thy bed, 
 With deeper woe my days were rife, 
 More bitter far the tears I shed." 
 
 ANSWER. 
 
 " Yes, Jesus, I will come to thee, 
 I know thou dost afflict in love, 
 And still shall this my comfort bo, 
 " There is a better world above." " 
 
 INVITATION. 
 
 " Come unto me when death is near, 
 
 mortal man then come to me, 
 
 1 will dispel each rising fear, 
 For sinner I have died for thee."
 
 THE DYING GIRL TO HER SISTER. GU 
 
 ANSWER. 
 
 '* Yes, Jesus, I will come to thee, 
 My countless sins before me rise, 
 But higher still thy cross I see, 
 On that I fix my dying eyes." 
 
 INVITATION. 
 
 " Come unto me, child of earth, 
 Bring all thy griefs and woes to me, 
 For from the moment of thy birth, 
 The Tempter tries to ruin thee." 
 
 ANSWER. 
 
 " Yes, Jesus, I will come to thee, 
 For thou wilt listen to my cries ; 
 "Whate'er the grief or trial be, 
 To thee my pleading voice shall rise." 
 
 THE DYING GIRL TO HER SISTER. 
 
 i^HE sun is setting, Sister, 
 ■V^ Behind our fav'rite tree. 
 'Twill rise again to-morrow, 
 To shine no more on me. 
 
 For I am going quickly, 
 
 To angels' better land, 
 
 Hark ! hark ! the spirits call me, 
 
 To join their happy band.
 
 THE DYING GIRL TO HER SISTER. 
 
 Yes I they are calling, listen ! 
 And this is what they say, 
 " Come ! come with us to heaven, 
 Oh, come 1 ere break of day." 
 
 I feel that I am dying, 
 My life will soon be o'er, 
 And I shall soon be sleeping, 
 To wake on earth no more. 
 
 The days of spring are coming, 
 I cannot go with thee, 
 To pull the flowers we planted, 
 Beneath yon aged tree. 
 
 But thou wilt go, my sister, 
 The fairest blossoms save, 
 And with them twine a garland, 
 To lay on Annie's grave. 
 
 Thou must not weep, dear Edith, 
 Bemember I am blest, 
 And free from care am resting, 
 On Jesus' gentle breast. 
 
 Hush ! listen now, oh listen, 
 The angels whisper low, 
 The hand of one rests gently, 
 Upon my throbbing brow. 
 
 See ! he is bending o'er me, 
 He talks to me of heaven, 
 And cries, " fear not, my sister, 
 Thy sius are all forgiven."
 
 I BLESS THEE LORD. 
 
 All ! now his arms are round me, 
 He bears me far away, 
 Oh ! seek not to detain me, 
 On earth I may not stay. 
 
 I go to lands of glory, 
 Where God and angels dwell, 
 My sight grows faint and fainter, 
 Dear sister, fare-thee-well. 
 
 I BLESS THEE LORD 
 
 t&i 
 
 BLESS thee Lord, though worn with pain, 
 
 <& 'Gainst thee I'll not rebel, 
 Be still my heart, do not complain, 
 God knowest what is well. 
 
 I bless thee Lord, though tears roll fast, 
 And anguish wrings my frame, 
 I thank thee for thy favours past, 
 And praise thy holy name. 
 
 I bless thee Lord for hours of rest, 
 Too lightly prized by far, 
 How oft have I my pillow press'd, 
 With nought my peace to mar. 
 
 I bless thee Lord, sweet sleep has fled, 
 And restless now I lie, 
 But angels hover round my bed, 
 And Jesus thou art nigh.
 
 72 ON CHRISTIAN ON. 
 
 I bless thee Lord, for thou hast borne, 
 Far deeper woe for me, 
 With agony thy heart was torn, 
 When hanging on the tree. 
 
 I bless thee Lord, and may I ne'er, 
 The rod of trial shun, 
 Oh ! still be this my earnest pray'r, 
 " Thy will, my God, be done." 
 
 I bless thee Lord, and still will bless, 
 Though pain may wearing be, 
 It cannot make my love be less, 
 I still will trust in thee. 
 
 "ON CHRISTIAN ON." 
 
 vvfeRAVE soldier on, run Christian, run, 
 L pr O haste thee, haste, while yet 'tis day, 
 Bear onward till the prize is won, 
 And stop not ling'ring by the way. 
 
 What though the road is rough and dreary, 
 'Tis still the same thy Saviour trod, 
 Pilgrim, thou art faint and weary, 
 But put thy feeble trust in God. 
 
 On Christian on, and look not back, 
 On countless sins long left behind, 
 But keep within the beaten track 
 And thou success shall surely find.
 
 COME HOLY SPIRIT. 73 
 
 Still hold tbee fast the blessed book, 
 Which unto thee the Lord has given, 
 In trouble in thy Bible look, 
 For that will show the way to heaven. 
 
 Thy march of woe will soon be o'er, 
 Thou soon shall end the toilsome race, 
 Then shalt thou dwell for evermore, 
 With him who saved thee by his grace. 
 
 E'en now there waits for thee in heaven, 
 A dazzling garland, rich and rare, 
 The Lord himself that wreath has woven, 
 With fragrant flowers most choice and fair. 
 
 Brave soldier haste, haste thee now, 
 While shouts of angels rend the skies, 
 And God shall deck thy weary brow, 
 With life's bright crown that never dies. 
 
 COME HOLY SPIRIT. 
 
 ips-OME Holy Spirit, bird of rest, 
 $£$ Thou ever blessed dove ! 
 And shed o'er ev'ry waiting breast, 
 The dew of peace and love, 
 O hover near us when we kneel, 
 And bend our heads to pray, 
 Make us to own the wants Ave feel, 
 And hear the words we say, 
 
 Come Holy Spirit, come !
 
 74 SABBATH EVE. 
 
 Drive far away the base desire, 
 
 That chains us still to earth, 
 
 And bid our sordid minds aspire, 
 
 To things of greater worth. 
 
 Teach us as through the world we rove, 
 
 With sin and care opprest, 
 
 To seek a better land above, 
 
 A land of perfect rest. 
 
 Come Holy Spirit, come ! 
 
 Help us in humble faith to see, 
 
 The Star of Salem rise, 
 
 And let the cross of Calvary be, 
 
 Before our weeping eyes. 
 
 O wash us in that flowing stream, 
 
 The Son of God has given, 
 
 Upon us Sun of Glory beam, 
 
 And make us fit for heaven. 
 
 Come Holy Spirit, come ! 
 
 SAB BATH EVE 
 
 ;giABBATH eve ! so calm and holy, 
 W^J Hour of rest, I love thee well, 
 O'er the worn and weary spirit, 
 Thou dost breathe a soothing spell. 
 
 Hush'd the busy voice of labour, 
 Hush'd the plough boy's whistle clear, 
 Lowing of the distant cattle, 
 Is the only sound 1 hear.
 
 WEEP NOT. to 
 
 'Mid the clouds of gold and crimson, 
 Yonder sets the mighty sun, 
 In a scene so sweetly tranquil, 
 Turn we to the Holy one. 
 
 Heavenly Father ! how we hless thee, 
 For this day of mercies past, 
 Ma) r each Sabbath that Ave welcome, 
 Bring more blessings than the last. 
 
 " Through the coming week preserve us, 
 From the winding ways of sin, 
 Give us Lord, Thy Holy Spirit, 
 Let not evil enter in." 
 
 " Pardon grant, for our offences, 
 Through the merits of thy Son, 
 Teach us in our hardest trials, 
 Still to cry ' Thy will be done. ' " 
 
 Sabbath sun ! thy rays are ling'ring, 
 On the tranquil scene around, 
 May the light of Sabbath blessings, 
 Ever in our hearts be found. 
 
 WEEP NOT. 
 
 r 6 
 
 _>EEP not, though the sky is o'ercast, 
 "X^Cr And loudly the howling winds roar, 
 Ere long the dread storni will be past, 
 The heavens be clear as before.
 
 76 WEEP NOT. 
 
 Weep not for the rose once so bright, 
 That fades as the frost o'er it creep, 
 The south! of fair Spring's footsteps light. 
 Will waken the flower from its sleep. 
 
 Weep not, though the cold hand of death, 
 Has crush'd the dear child of thy love, 
 For angels convey'd its pure breath, 
 To regions of glory above. 
 
 Weep not for the woes of another, 
 Thy heart may with true pity bleed, 
 But rise, help thy sorrowful brother, 
 And comfort thy friend in his need. 
 
 Weep not, though stern winter has bound 
 The streams in his strong, icy chain, 
 The waters will flow with glad sound, 
 When summer's bright sun shines again. 
 
 Weep not, though fair fortune's gay smile, 
 Now comes not thy dwelling to cheer, 
 Though troubles may harass awhile, 
 Hope on ! better days will appear. 
 
 Weep not, though all joys fade away, 
 As swiftly as morn's early dew, 
 In heaven no flower can decay, 
 Smile on, still be upright and true.
 
 THE WHITE MAN IX AFRICA. 
 
 THE WHITE MAN IN AFRICA. 
 
 i?pHE scorching sun had sunk to rest, 
 sjr" And shades of evening fast drew near, 
 Each bird had sought its downy nest, 
 No sound was heard the heart to cheer. 
 
 But still the white man journey'd on, 
 Although he knew not where to go, 
 His courage sunk, — his strength was gone, 
 His step was trembling, short, and slow. 
 
 He wish'd to reach his distant cot, 
 Before the coming close of day, 
 At dawu he left, the happy spot, 
 And wand'ring far had lost his way. 
 
 Alas ! his trembling limbs no more, 
 The weary, tott'ring frame could bear, 
 The traveller's only hope was o'er, 
 He sunk, and wept in deep despair. 
 
 No loving wife, or gentle child, 
 To fan his burning brow was nigh, 
 And nought but dreary, trackless wild, 
 Was stretch'd before his languid eye.
 
 78 THE WHITE MAX IX AFRICA. 
 
 Why slowly turn'd his fainting bead .' 
 All ! sounds of footsteps met his ear, 
 And soon with firm and steady tread, 
 A dark and stately form drew near. 
 
 The negro raised the wand'rer up, 
 And bore him to the river's brink, 
 With water quickly filled his cup, 
 Then gently bade the way-worn drink. 
 
 " O weary traveller," he cried, 
 " With black man thou to night must stay, 
 Safe 'neath his hut thou canst abide, 
 We'll bear thee home at break of day." 
 
 " As bounding Zebra I will fly, 
 To tell thy wife that thou art here ; 
 The tears that dim her deep blue eye, 
 At news of thee, will disappear." 
 
 " Go, stranger kind," the wand'rer said, 
 May God who dwells in heaven above, 
 Pour down upon thy noble head, 
 A stream of mercy, grace, and love." 
 
 " And if I e'er see length of days, 
 Though bent my form, and white my hair, 
 E'en then this tongue shall loudly praise, 
 The negro's fond, and gen'rous care." 
 
 " Ah ! son of England, black men know, 
 That thou dost love the dark skin well, 
 And many, man// miles we'll go, 
 To hear thy tribe of Jesus tell." 
 
 " Yes, 'till these eyes are dim in death, 
 I still will help thee when I can, 
 The negro, with his failing breath, 
 Will bless the kind, and good white man."
 
 MARY. 7'. I 
 
 MARY 
 
 ry- AXiK not to me of beauty rare, 
 ■^ Of dazzling skin, and beaming eyes, 
 The fairest form cannot compare, 
 With one whom I shall ever prize ; 
 
 My Mary. 
 
 There's something in her quiet smile, 
 That shews affection most sincere, 
 She is not one who loves awhile, 
 And vanishes when clouds appear ; 
 
 My Mary. 
 
 I love to hear her laugh of glee, 
 It breathes such pure and harmless joy, 
 For though so lively, gay, and free, 
 With sorrow she will never toy ; 
 
 My Mary. 
 
 The tear-drops sparkle in her eyes, 
 Whene'er of other's grief she hears, 
 And oh, how soothingly she tries, 
 To dry the mourner's flowing tears ; 
 
 My Mary. 
 
 Though beauty like the flowers so bright, 
 Will quickly droop, and fade away, 
 A mind that shines with wisdom's light, 
 Will live when other charms decay ; 
 
 My Mary. 
 
 I love her cheerful, smiling face, 
 More than the fairest form on earth ; 
 I love her not for outward grace, 
 But for her real and sterling worth ; 
 
 My Mary.
 
 80 CHKISTMAS BONG. 
 
 CHRISTMAS SONG. 
 
 tERE'S Christmas come again onco more, 
 And we will greet him now with glee, 
 Without the howling winds may roar, 
 But here shall joy and comfort be. 
 Bar fast the door, shut out the cold, 
 And let us gather round the hearth, 
 Now shall the merry tale be told, 
 And loud shall be the laugh of mirth. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Come bid adieu to anxious fear, 
 And banish grief and sorrow, 
 For Christmas comes but once a year, 
 Leave sadness till to-morrow. 
 
 Friends here's the health of England's Queen, 
 
 She wisely rules our native land, 
 
 And sways her sceptre now I ween, 
 
 With truly righteous, noble hand. 
 
 Victoria ; long life be thine, 
 
 Oh ! mayst thou ever rule as now 
 
 God grant the crown, long, long may shine, 
 
 Brave woman, on thy queenly brow. 
 
 Chorus, " Come bid adieu, &c."
 
 CHRISTMAS SONG. HI 
 
 Now luck to ev'ry hoary head, 
 
 May all he clear at setting sun, 
 
 And though the days of youth are fled, 
 
 May health attend till life is done. 
 
 Long life to those now young and gay, 
 
 On their soft cheek may health's rose bloom, 
 
 And close to them may pleasure stay, 
 
 But bauish'd far he grief and gloom. 
 
 Chorus, K Come bid adieu, &c." 
 
 Companions ! we must not forget 
 The lov'd ones in a distant land, 
 May Providence on them pour yet, 
 His blessings great with lavish hand, 
 Oh ! ever Peace be thou their lot, 
 Kind Plenty open now thy well, 
 And deluge that small, lowly cot 
 In which the absent dear ones dwell. 
 
 Chorus, " Come bid adieu, &c." 
 
 To night the first time we have met, 
 In this our new and cheerful home, 
 I trust that many meetings yet, 
 Shall ours be in the days to come. 
 Oh ! let our love be ever bright, 
 And fresh as that green holly bough, 
 Our actions pure as berries white, 
 That deck, like pearls the mistletoe. 
 
 Chorus, " Come bid adieu, i:c."
 
 82 THE DEATH OF C/ESAR. 
 
 THE DEATH OF CAESAR 
 
 ^REAT Csesar to the Senate goes, 
 Sv The eager people round him throng, 
 And greet the mighty conqueror, 
 With shouts of welcome, loud and long. 
 
 But as he passes through the crowd, 
 A heavy gloom is on his brow. 
 And he who has a word for all, 
 Walks on in stately silence now. 
 
 Oh 1 why so sad to-day, great Chief, 
 Why dost thou start with sudden fear, 
 Why grasp thy sword with nervous hand, 
 As if some dreaded foe were near 1 
 
 He hears the people's hearty cries, 
 But in their joy he cannot share, 
 The Augur's words ring in his ear, 
 " Consul ! the Ides of March beware ! " 
 
 The stately Senate house is gained, 
 And now a well-known voice he hears, 
 And turning sees Spurina stand, 
 His aged eyes are filled with tears.
 
 THE DEATH OF C.ESAE. 
 
 83 
 
 The consul faintly smiling says, 
 " The day is come," and passes on, 
 " Master, the faithful Augur cries. 
 " Truth it is come, but not yet gone." 
 
 Oh ! Emperor why that lowly sigh ? 
 Yet now he boldly takes his seat, 
 And bends attentively to hear, 
 The pleader kneeling at his feet. 
 
 Alas ! the murd'rous hands are raised, 
 The traitors lift the cruel spear, 
 But bravely he returns the blow, 
 Nor shews a single sign of fear. 
 
 Why quivers now the pallid lip ? 
 Why doth the strong arm cease to fight ? 
 Ah me ! a much lov'dfriend is there, 
 And courage fails him at the sight. 
 
 With hand uplifted, " Brutus Thou;' 
 In deep heart-rending grief he cries, 
 Then quickly covering his head, 
 Rome's great, and mighty, emperor dies. 
 
 Calphurnia ! thy dream is true, 
 For Ctesar thou must call in vain, 
 For he so lov'd shall never more, 
 Enfold thee in his arms again. 
 
 Ungrateful traitors ! rash the deed, 
 Which ye did perpetrate that day, 
 In causing such a noble soul, 
 To pass in Glory's blaze away !
 
 Si 
 
 THE CHILD'S EVENING PRAYER. 
 
 But ( laesar's ghost shall haunt thee Brutus ! 
 Throughout life's march thou still shalt hear, 
 Those last, sad, mournful dying words, 
 For ever sounding, in thine ear. 
 
 THE CHILD'S EVENING PRAYER. 
 
 (^%,1S night — and o'er the sleeping world, 
 
 \?- The moon a gentle lustre sheds, 
 
 The breeze just stirs the broad vine leaves, 
 
 That cluster round the casement's frame, 
 
 Each dewy petal of the rose, 
 
 Is folded in a peaceful rest. 
 
 In graceful curves the streamlet flows, 
 
 Like liquid silver through the vale, 
 
 And lowly o'er the waters bend, 
 
 The weeping willow's drooping boughs, 
 
 As guardian spirits watching near, 
 
 The form of one they dearly love. 
 
 How fair the scene ! so calm, so pure, 
 
 No strife or noise of tongues is heard, 
 
 To mar the stillness reigning here, 
 
 For Peace has spread her dove-like wings, 
 
 While weary Nature lies asleep. 
 
 Ah ! hour of beauty ! day will soon 
 
 The magic spell that binds thee break, 
 
 To-morrow's sun will dawn on all, 
 
 And call to busy life again. 
 
 Thou art too beautiful, too calm, 
 
 Too much like Heaven's pure bliss to last. 
 
 The scene is fair, but fairer still,
 
 THE CHILD'S EVENING PRAYER. 85 
 
 The kneeling form, and holy face. 
 
 Of yonder, gentle, praying child. 
 
 The colour in his rounded cheek, 
 
 Would mar the rosebud's opening blush, 
 
 And on his fair and thoughtful brow, 
 
 The ringlets of his sunny hair, 
 
 Are resting as the golden fringe, 
 
 That's left so oft by setting sun, 
 
 Upon some soft and snow-white cloud. 
 
 Long silken lashes overhang, 
 
 The orbs that rival Nature's gem, 
 
 In their unsullied violet hue. 
 
 His pretty dimpled hands are clasp'd, 
 
 And now in earnest accents fall, 
 
 His words of simple, heart-felt prayer, 
 
 As pure and sparkling waters gush, 
 
 With music sweet, from crystal cell. 
 
 Dear child ! the snowy robe that wraps 
 
 Thy form, is emblem of thy soul, 
 
 Now clad with spotless purity. 
 
 Pray on ! and give thy flowing heart, 
 
 In life's unclouded morn to God ; 
 
 Then when the sultry heat of noon. 
 
 Has parch'd thy lip, and dimm'd thine eye ; 
 
 His hand will lead thee to the hills, 
 
 Where thou may'st lave thy weary limbs, 
 
 In fountains of eternal rest. 
 
 And later still in life's dark night, 
 
 His word shall be a shining star, 
 
 To guide thy trembling feet to Heaven. 
 
 Pray on ! ere Sin's dark wing has cast, 
 
 A shadow o'er thy gentle soul, 
 
 Ere grief has paled thy rosy cheek, 
 
 And mark'd deep lines upon thy brow, 
 
 Pray on ! and in the hour of woe, 
 
 Oh ! think of this, Thy Childhood's Prayer.
 
 86 THE BRIDE. 
 
 THE BRIDE. 
 
 x&> HE stood within the ancient hall, 
 Vtff Array'd in hridal garments there, 
 A wreath of orange blossoms twined 
 Amid her curls of golden hair, 
 The noble guests her beauty praised 
 And many thought her richly blest, 
 But knew not that a bursting heart, 
 Was throbbing 'neath that gentle breast. 
 
 She listened to her Father's word 
 
 And stood in patience like the dove, 
 
 About to wed the man of wealth 
 
 Whom she could never, never love. 
 
 What though Lord Stanley's lands were broad, 
 
 Though shone in heaps his glittering gold, 
 
 For as the senseless gems he wore, 
 
 His stern, unbending heart was cold. 
 
 They led her to the village church, 
 She knelt before the altar there, 
 Her cheek as pallid as the flowers 
 That deck'd her long and flowing hair. 
 The vows that bound her until Death 
 The falt'ring lips refused to speak, 
 And scarcely could the words be heard, 
 They came in tones so low and weak.
 
 THE BRIDE. 
 
 87 
 
 Lord Stanley took her small white hand, 
 He shudder'd — it was icy cold — 
 And on the tap'ring finger placed 
 The wedding pledge, the ring of gold. 
 To her that shining circlet hurned 
 Like scorching band of living flame, 
 And o'er her ashy cheek the flush 
 Of injured feeling went and came. 
 
 The rite was o'er, they turn'd away, 
 And loudly pealed each joyous bell, 
 But to the mournful bride they seem'd 
 To toll a sad and solemn knell. 
 The greetings of her many friends 
 On her like withering curses fell, 
 She bent her graceful head to hide 
 The pearly tear she could not quell. 
 
 The peasants thronged the old churchyard, 
 And scatter'd garlands as she pass'd, 
 While aged men and matrons wept, 
 And bless'd their fav'rite for the last; 
 The children whom her gentle hand 
 Had led to God in life's first years, 
 Stood there to take a last farewell, 
 And watch'd her fading form with tears. 
 
 Soon far away from all she lov'd 
 
 From those dear friends who lov'd her well, 
 
 Lord Stanley led his beauteous bride, 
 
 In Cullen's stately halls to dwell. 
 
 The lily fades if rudely torn 
 
 From valleys where it loves to hide, 
 
 And ere another year had flown, 
 
 The Rose of Asher droop'd and died.
 
 SS 
 
 HEMEMBKR GOD. 
 
 REMEMBER GOD 
 
 ^EMEMBER God in youth;— 
 '(#£ The Young are apt to stray 
 Beyond the narrow path, 
 That leads to endless day. 
 
 Hern ember God in age; — 
 The sands are nearly run 
 For pardon humbly pray, 
 Before thy life is gone. 
 
 Remember God in mirth; — 
 Thy heart now bounds for joy, 
 But life's sad cares will soon 
 Such transient bliss destroy. 
 
 Remember God in grief; — 
 When thou art bow'd with woe, 
 And he will give thee strength 
 To bear each heavy blow. 
 
 Remember God in health; — 
 That boon to man was given, 
 To make him think with joy, 
 Of all the bliss of Heaven. 
 
 Remember God in pain; — 
 When sleep is far away, 
 Then pour thy soul in prayer, 
 Until the break of day.
 
 REMEMBER GOD. 81) 
 
 Remember God at morn; — 
 When all serene and clear, 
 Then praise his boundless grace 
 And worship Him with fear. 
 
 Remember God at night; — 
 At close of ev'ry day, 
 Away from Pleasure's throng, 
 Oh ! bend thy knee and pray. 
 
 Remember God in Death 
 When sinking to the Grave, 
 Remember Christ has died, 
 Thy sinful soul to save. 
 
 Remember God Man, 
 Wherever thou may'st be 
 Then in thy darkest days, 
 God trill remember thee. 
 
 LEARN OF NATURE. 
 
 gvihANDERER in this world of woe, 
 J%-C Worn out by grief oppress'd by care, 
 To the green hills, and wild woods go, 
 For you may learn a lesson there. 
 
 Gently the quiet streamlet flows 
 In ripples to the Ocean's breast, 
 Freshness around it ever throws 
 Until it gains its place of rest.
 
 90 LEARN OF NATURE. 
 
 Many a Christian's gentle Spirit, 
 Thus passes from its house of clay, 
 Leaving some trace of deathless merit 
 To shew the treasure fled away. 
 
 List to the birds that sweetly sing, 
 And warble forth their Maker's praise, 
 Till the wild woods and forests ring, 
 And echo back their simple lays; 
 
 So in yon happy world of light, 
 The Angels clap their shining wings, 
 Ceasing not singing day and night, 
 The praises of the King of Kings. — 
 
 See too the modest forest flowers, 
 That bloom in ev'ry shady spot, 
 Watered by cool, refreshing showers, 
 The God above forgets them not; 
 
 Thus, weary Christians, God will send 
 To you a blessing from above, 
 Will be to you a faithful friend, 
 And comfort you with endless love. 
 
 Closely the tender ivy clings, 
 And twines around the Oak tree's arm, 
 While the strong tree its branches flings, 
 To shield the feeble plant from harm ; 
 
 Thus Christian when the Tempter wages 
 With thee his fierce, destructive war, 
 Lean thou upon the Hock of Ages, 
 And he will harass thee no more.
 
 HYMN. 91 
 
 Wanderer in this world of strife, 
 Go thou where man has seldom trod, 
 There, far from scenes of busy life 
 Behold the might}' works of God. 
 
 HYMN. 
 
 LORD thou Shepherd good and kind, 
 Protect thy feeble Sheep, 
 Give me an humble, contrite mind, 
 And strength thy laws to keep. 
 
 crush the thoughts of angry pride, 
 That oft disturb my peace, 
 
 My wayward temper ever chide 
 And bid the Tempter cease." 
 
 " Though sorrow oft may cloud the eye 
 In this our trial land, 
 
 1 shall be safe if Thou art nigh 
 To hold my trembling hand. 
 
 O give me fresh supplies of grace, 
 Make me in danger calm, 
 E'en when I cannot see thy face, 
 I'll trust thy mighty arm." 
 
 " Lord make my heart in hours of joy 
 
 With grateful rapture swell, 
 
 And may thy praise my tongue employ 
 
 For thou dost all things well. 
 
 In life's last hour when earthly things 
 
 All wrapt in gloom shall be, 
 
 Let Angels spread their shining wings 
 
 And bear my soul to Thee."
 
 92 HOME. 
 
 HOME 
 
 (^,HE gallant ship bounds o'er the sparkling, blue sea, 
 "nf It nears the lov'd coast of old England once more, 
 ' Tis mann'd by brave Britons, all noble and free, 
 Who long to behold their dear friends on tlie shore. 
 The Sailor boy's cheek is now flush'd with delight, 
 " On ! onward," he cries, " I can bear no delay; 
 " The white cliffs of Dover are looming in .sight, 
 "All glist'ning like pearls in the sun's morning ray. 
 " Broad Ocean, I love thee, and often have thought, 
 " Oh ! would I could die 'neath thy snowy white foam, 
 " But years of long absence this lesson have taught, 
 " In all the wide world there is no place like home." 
 
 The glimmering moonbeams shed light on the plain, 
 
 Where many a brave man lies breathing his last, 
 
 For thousands since morn in the battle were slain, 
 
 And bloody and fierce was the light that is past; 
 
 The Soldier looks round on the desolate scene, 
 
 And thinks of his Cot by the side of the Hill, 
 
 The porch that's half hid by the ivy so green, 
 
 The garden, the trees, and the murmuring rill. 
 
 " Thank God," he exclaims, "the dread conllict is o'er, 
 
 " From wife and from children no longer I'll roam, 
 
 " I go to my own native village once more, 
 
 " In all the wide world there is no place like home." 
 
 The setting sun's rays have spread over the trees 
 A mantle of crimson, of purple and gold, 
 The song of the Shepherd floats past on the breeze, 
 As homeward he comes from the far distant fold.
 
 music. 93 
 
 A Traveller rests on the moss covered well, 
 Near which he had play'd when a wild romping boy, 
 And thoughts of the past his full bosom now swell, 
 Till down his brown cheek roll the tear-drops of joy, 
 " Sweet valley," he cries, "I'll ne'er leave thee again, 
 " Though brilliant thy skies, imperial Rome, 
 "And fragrant thy Orange groves beautiful Spain, 
 " In all the wide world there is no place like home." 
 
 The Indian loves his rude wigwam far more 
 
 Than halls where the great and the noble abide, 
 
 He loves his wild woods when the winds loudly roar, 
 
 And shake the tall palms by the deep river's side. 
 
 The towering Alps to the brave mountaineer 
 
 Are dearer than vales and the sun lighted plain, 
 
 From rocks like the chamois he leaps without fear, 
 
 And laughs at the yawning abyss with disdain. 
 
 The Highlander doats on the land of his birth, 
 
 Where purple heath grows, and loud cataracts foam, 
 
 And who can deny on the face of the earth 
 
 " In all the wide world there is no place like home 1 " 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 <A MUSIC, blest Music, thy mystical spell 
 
 "sp- The bosom of Man with sweet transports doth swell, 
 
 How welcome thy tones to his sad care-worn breast, 
 
 Oft soothing each sorrowful murmur to rest; 
 
 Thou bid'st him remember the blessings he shares, 
 
 Though mingled in mercy with troubles and cares. —
 
 94 MUSIC. 
 
 What heart with a thrill of delight does not bound ? 
 
 Whenever the organ's rich pealings resound 
 
 Through aisles of Cathedral, where sweet voices raise, 
 
 The echo prolonged in the anthem of praise. — 
 
 When anger distracts, and o'er man's troubled soul 
 
 The billows of passion in wild fury roll, 
 
 If Music but breathe on his furious breast, 
 
 Once more the deep ocean of wrath is at rest, 
 
 At touch of thy gentle, yet powerful dart, 
 
 The spirit of evil will quickly depart 
 
 And tears of repentance will beam in the eye, 
 
 That glanced in proud scorn until thou didst pass by. 
 
 In truth mighty spirit thou often dost quell 
 
 The whirlwinds of passions, when wildly they swell, 
 
 To instruments only thou art not confin'd, 
 
 We hear thee in summer eve's sad sighing wind, 
 
 In waves of the Ocean when loudly they roar, 
 
 Or pensively murmuring break on the shore. 
 
 The song of the Nightingale warbled alone, 
 
 Has Music most sweet in its rich swelling tone, 
 
 So too has the fall of a mountain stream wild, 
 
 The silvery laugh of a guileless young child, 
 
 The bleating of sheep on the hills far away, 
 
 And faithful hound's loudest and deeply toned bay. 
 
 In numerous forms thou dost fall on the ear, 
 
 And many a low humble Cot thou dost cheer, 
 
 The soul's best emotions, when touched by thee, rise, 
 
 And soar like the lark, to their own native skies. — 
 
 When night over earth her dark mantle has spread, 
 
 And nature is still like the motionless dead, 
 
 The strings of a harp touch'd by some skilful hand 
 
 Will sound like a voice from the Seraphim's land, 
 
 And soft as a feather the accents will sweep 
 
 The mind of the list'ner awakened from sleep, 
 
 Soon chasing each sorrowful feeling away, 
 
 As night clouds disperse at the breaking of day. —
 
 HAPPIXESS. 95 
 
 HAPPINESS 
 
 f SPIRIT of Happiness where dost thou roam ? 
 Say beautiful wanderer where is thy home ; 
 I sought thee in Nature's most glittering scene, 
 "When Summer had deck'd the fair valleys with green, 
 The rivulet peacefully murmur'd along, 
 There seem'd to be joy in the wild bird's sweet song, 
 Alas ! winter came with his cold icy train, 
 And hush*d was the Thrush's melodious strain, 
 No longer I heard the clear stream's laughing fall, 
 A cov'ring of gloom was then thrown over all ; 
 I turn'd in deep grief from the scene once so fair, 
 And whisper'd, "0 Happiness thou art not there." 
 
 I sought for thee next in the crowded saloon, 
 There shone forth the lamps as the hot sun at noon, 
 Fair forms in the light graceful dance pass'd me by, 
 Delight seem'd to sparkle in each beaming eye, 
 But soon the gay roses from beauty's cheek fled, 
 And trembling she press'd her white hand to her head, 
 The whirl of the waltz made her fever'd brain swim, 
 The glittering lamps appear'd misty and dim, 
 Base flattery's words like a sword pierced her breast, 
 For oh ! she was weary, and coveted rest. 
 With heart full of sorrow I went from the spot, 
 Ah ! Happiness, Happiness, there thou wert not.
 
 96 HAPPINK.-W. 
 
 I visited next at the glad social hearth. 
 And heard the sweet music of innocent mirth, 
 In front of a cheerful and blazing wood tire, 
 Sat parents, and children, and aged grand-sire, 
 From that smiling circle had fled grief and care, 
 And bliss, perfect bliss, for a short time reign'd there, 
 But Death laid his heavy and icy cold hand, 
 ■ E're long on the fairest of that little band, 
 And then dim with tears was each once sparkling eye, 
 And loud was the parent's wild heart-rending cry, 
 The tomb was fast closed o'er the maiden so fair, 
 beautiful spirit thy home was not there. 
 
 Then tell me, Happiness, where is thy home ? 
 
 Blest spirit for thee I no longer will roam ; 
 
 I sought thee in poverty's low, humble cot, 
 
 I thought thou wert there, but alas ! thou wert not ; 
 
 The mansion of wealth had things costly and rare, 
 
 But vainly I look'd for thy light footstep there, 
 
 In learning's deep well I have plung'd for thee too, 
 
 But when I sank deepest how little I knew, 
 
 Like lightning's sharp flash thou dost beam on my 
 
 mind, 
 But never the place of thy rest could I find ; 
 Then Happiness, Happiness, haste thee to tell, 
 "Where, where, on this wide-spreading earth dost thou 
 
 dwell. 
 
 ANSWER. 
 
 Ah ! short-sighted mortal, I dwell not on earth, 
 Where sorrow must follow e'en innocent mirth, 
 Where roses ne'er bloom without torturing thorn, 
 And night will succeed to the dawning of morn ;
 
 CANUTE. 97 
 
 No ! I dwell above with the Angels of light, 
 In Heaven's blest courts where there falleth no blight, 
 Host thou in the Lord, and take Him for thy guide, 
 And then I shall frequently be by thy side, 
 • But think not with thee I shall constantly stay, 
 Like desert mirage I shall vanish away, 
 Though oft-times to mortals ray visits are given, 
 The place of my rest is with Angels in Heaven. 
 
 CANUTE. 
 
 3«j RE AT Canute with his nobles stands 
 \y Upon the lone and bleak sea-shore ; 
 He loves to hear the angry waves, 
 In wild, and raging fury roar. 
 
 " Stupendous Ocean," he exclaims, 
 ; ' Roll on in all thy ancient pride 
 " How great must be the power of Him, 
 " Who with a word can stem thy tide." 
 
 " My Courtiers," you have often said, 
 " That all things my commands obey, 
 " Come, stand ye here, and I will try, 
 " If this wild sea will own my sway."
 
 9S THE REVEILLE. 
 
 " Away proud waves," he lourlly shouts, 
 <- Haste ye from this my chosen spot, 
 " For I'm your Lord and Master know, 
 " Go back sea, and touch me not." 
 
 The breakers rear their crested heads, 
 And onward come just as before, 
 Old Ocean seems to laugh in scorn, 
 And loud the foaming waters roar. 
 
 " Base sycophants," the Monarch cries, 
 " His power alone is past controul, 
 " At whose almighty, great command, 
 " The raging billows cease to roll." 
 
 Canute the Great, the truly great, 
 
 How nobly thou did'st flatt'ry chide, 
 
 And still though pass'd from earth, thy name, 
 
 Shall long be England's boast and pride. 
 
 THE REVEILLE. 
 
 jAKE Lady, awake, for the sun is on high, 
 35JfCr And fast is unfolding each flower, 
 Unclouded and clear is the radiant sky, 
 Come haste to thy jessamine bower.
 
 HEALTn. 99 
 
 Wake Lady, awake, for the diamond's ray, 
 Is dim to the dew on the rose, 
 The song of the wild birds bids welcome to-day, 
 And nature awakes from repose. 
 
 Wake Lady, awake, to the green woods away, 
 "Where bloometh the sweet eglantine, 
 Come see how the waters all laughingly play, 
 And flash like those blue eyes of thine. 
 
 "Wake Lady, awake, for the willow's long stems 
 Are tapping thy lattice's frame, 
 And Flora has spread out her parure of gems, 
 While breezes are sighing thy name. 
 
 Wake Lady, awake, for the sun is on high, 
 Come hasten thy couch to forsake, 
 And lift up the lash of thy sunny bright eye, 
 Wake, wake, gentle Lady, awake. 
 
 HEALTH 
 
 £b> ARE gems and gold, I do not ask for thee, 
 C^- Nor beauty's sparkling diadem ; 
 If rank and titles too, should offered be, 
 I would not even wish for them.
 
 100 VKS, YDS. THOU ART OONE. 
 
 No shining: gems can cure the fev'rish pain, 
 They will hut tire the languid eye. 
 As short :is smmner days is Beauty's reign, 
 Like flowers she only blooms to die. 
 
 A gift more precious far I would were thine, 
 A jewel never bought with wealth, 
 In value higher than the richest mine, 
 It is the priceless boon of health. 
 
 YES, YES, THOU ART GONE. 
 
 -y.ES, yes, thou art gone to thy grave Edith dear, 
 ■ . ./ And o'er thee the grass groweth green, 
 But time thy fair image can never efface, 
 From hearts where it ever has been. 
 
 How well I remember our anguish and grief, 
 As weeping we stood round thy bed, 
 And saw the dread angel of Death fold his wings, 
 And spread his dark pall o'er thy head. 
 
 I held thy lov'd form in these arms, Sister dear, 
 
 And wildly thy thin hand I press'd, 
 
 And thought my sad heart would have burst when 
 
 I saw 
 Thy spirit was sinking to rest.
 
 YES, YES, THOU AHT GONE. 1(1) 
 
 And oil 1 when thy soul from its mansion had tied, 
 I wept o'er thy beautiful clay, 
 
 And wished from my heart in the anguish of grief, 
 1 too had been taken away. 
 
 Still now in the darkness of night, Edith dear, 
 Once more thy sweet face I can see, 
 And hear that low voice that was ever lov'd well, 
 Come floating in whispers to me. 
 
 I gaze on thy high noble forehead of snow, 
 That rival'd the lily so fair, 
 And behold once again thy lustrous dark eyes, 
 And play with thy long wavy hair. 
 
 How great is my joy when my arms I extend, 
 Thy form to embrace as before, 
 Alas ! to awake and then learn the sad truth, 
 Too soon the false vision is o'er. 
 
 Yes, Yes, thou art gone to thy grave, Sister dear, 
 How few were the days to thee given, 
 The rose ere it bloomed was cut off from the stem, 
 And borne to the garden of Heaven. 
 
 We will not deplore thee, my own Edith dear, 
 Now safe in Emmanuel's laud, 
 Enable me, Lord, still to bend 'neath thy rod, 
 And bless thy kind, chastening hand.
 
 10L> BE MERRY. 
 
 BE MERRY, 
 
 << crftE merry, Oh be merry, now 
 
 '"^T In life's unsullied morn, 
 Let joy be written on thy brow, 
 And smiles thy face adorn. 
 Oh smoothly down the sea of life 
 May'st thou my lov'd one glide, 
 Undaunted by the voice of strife, 
 O'er billows safely ride." 
 
 " Be merry, Oh be merry, for 
 
 The sun beams o'er thy bead, 
 
 The earth with flowers is sprinkled o'er 
 
 And velvet turf is spread. 
 
 Oh may thy face like roses fair 
 
 Gleam forth with hope and joy, 
 
 And never may the hand of care 
 
 Thy happiness destroy." 
 
 " Be merry, Oh be merry, hear 
 
 The wild-bird's warbled song, 
 
 Comes gently wafted to the ear 
 
 As gales the notes prolong. 
 
 So may thy voice in grateful praise 
 
 lie-echo to the sky, 
 
 Pour forth to him in tuneful lays 
 
 Thine artless melody,"
 
 THE FAVORITE TREE. 103 
 
 " Be merry, Oh be merry, there 
 Is power in childhood's mirth, 
 To drive away the trace of care, 
 And give contentment birth. 
 It makes the face that sorrow shrouds 
 Look up through gathering tears, 
 And then amid the darkest clouds 
 The bow of Hope appears." 
 
 " Be merry, Oh be merry then, 
 
 Glad as a woodland bird, 
 
 And many eyes will glisten, when 
 
 Thy joyous laugh is heard. 
 
 The summer sun is o'er thee now, 
 
 Cull roses at thy will, 
 
 And wreath the vine leaf round thy brow, 
 
 My child be merry still." 
 
 THE FAVORITE TREE 
 
 '"^P HE Rose that decks the garden bower, 
 
 ~V" Though beautiful to view 
 
 Will wither after one short hour, 
 
 And lose its brilliant hue. 
 
 "We mourn its early death in vain 
 
 And tell what it has been, 
 
 Lamenting that so short a reign 
 
 Belongs to Flora's queen.
 
 104 THE fayokiti: TltKi:. 
 
 Then strike who will the tuneful lyre 
 To praise a fading thing 
 "Apollo ! lend thy mighty fire, 
 Anl aid me while I sing ; 
 Hut bring to me no garland gay, 
 No transient flower for me, 
 I'll fling the sweetest rose away 
 For thee my favorite tree." 
 
 I've watch'd thee in the early spring 
 
 To see thy green buds burst, 
 
 And Oh ! what joy that morn would bring, 
 
 When I beheld the first, 
 
 I've sat in summer 'neath thy shade, 
 
 Upon the daisied ground, 
 
 While 'mid thy boughs the breezes play'd, 
 
 With low and tuneful sound ; 
 
 And when the autumn sun has turn'd 
 
 Thy leaves to golden hue, 
 
 From thee a lesson I have learn'd 
 
 A lesson good and true. 
 
 In life's spring morn the heart is guy. 
 
 Untouched by care or grief, 
 
 But autumn sweeps the dream away, 
 
 Like verdure from the leaf. 
 
 In winter still my fav'rite tree, 
 I've lov'd thy branches bare, 
 And smiled as sun went down to see, 
 The frost wreath glitt'ring there. 
 When earth is fading from my sight, 
 And doubtings o'er me roll, 
 O may a robe as pure and white 
 Enwrap my trembling soul.
 
 THE FAVORITE TREE. ](l." 
 
 Yes, I have watch'd thee thus for years, 
 
 And stand before thee now. 
 
 And in mine eye are beaming tears. 
 
 And sorrow's on my brow. 
 
 I think of joys for ever past 
 
 Oh ! happy days gone by, 
 
 Of friends who long have look'd their last 
 
 And laid them down to die. 
 
 But ah ! I gaze on thee in vain 
 And mourn the blessings fled, 
 Thou can'st not give them back again 
 Nor wake the slumbering dead. 
 With gentle tone each dancing leaf. 
 Doth chide my thoughts of pain, 
 And bids me dry the tear of grief 
 For lov'd ones still remain. 
 
 The hand that lends has right to claim, 
 
 Its own whene'er it will. 
 
 ; * Father ! I'll bless thy holy name 
 
 " I'll suffer and be still. 
 
 " Teach me to take with grateful heart. 
 
 " The joys so freely given, 
 
 " Contented with them all to part, 
 
 " When we shall meet in heaven." 
 
 Then shake thy boughs my fav'rite tree, 
 
 No sorrow they e'er knew, 
 
 And list'ning to their sounds of glee, 
 
 Makes me feel happy too. 
 
 Wave on ye leaves, I linger near, 
 
 Bound by a magic spell. 
 
 Aud as I turn to leave, I hear 
 
 Ye whisper " fare- thee- well-"
 
 J 06 AX ACROSTIC. 
 
 AN ACROSTIC: 
 
 MANY HAPPY RETURNS OF THE PAY. 
 
 t^pAY ev'ry joy the earth adorn. 
 t> round the form I love so well, 
 % e'er may the world's cold glance of scorn, 
 H outh's fairy dream of bliss dispel. 
 £3 ealth ! smiling Beauty ! o'er her spread 
 
 > panoply of rosy glow, 
 
 hj our thy rich blessings on her head, 
 
 i-a reserve her from a pain worn brow. 
 
 kJ e fleeting hours, another year 
 
 # ecedes with all its joys and pain, 
 
 H va must dry the starting tear, 
 
 h= he past cannot return again. 
 
 c* se well the coming days, dear friend, 
 
 ►C ire over ev'ry earthly fear, 
 
 ^ or need'st thou dread thy latter end 
 
 co ince heavenly aid is ever near. 
 
 O Eva I have asked for thee, 
 
 **} rom Heaven's treasury blessings rare, 
 
 H he Christian's precious jewell'ry 
 
 W as been for thee besought in prayer. 
 
 M ach gem that angels highly prize, 
 
 t> ear friend, I pray, on thee may shine ; 
 
 > home thou seek'st beyond the skies ; 
 *! es Eva ! and it shall be thine.
 
 LIKES ON THE DEPARTURE OF THE PRINCESS ROYAL. 107 
 
 LINES 
 ON THE DEPARTURE OF THE PRINCESS ROYAL. 
 
 (J^HE bark has left the British strand, 
 v/- With England's hope and pride. 
 For one from Prussia's distant land 
 Has claimed her as his bride ; 
 
 The vessel goes ; while heart)' cheers, 
 Are pealing to the sky, 
 Victoria turns to hide her tears, 
 She cannot say, " good bye ; " 
 
 The people she has lov'd so long, 
 With whom her youth has pass'd, 
 Like mighty waves of Ocean throng 
 To gaze, and look their last ; 
 
 Still to the water's edge they press 
 Nor heed the rising tide, 
 While ev'ry voice is raised to bless 
 The young and royal bride. 
 
 One group upon that crowded pier 
 Look on with breaking hearts, 
 While bearing her so justly dear, 
 The gallant ship departs.
 
 108 LINES ON THE DEPART TJ HI'. OF Tin'. PRINCESS ROYAL. 
 
 The royal father's hand on high 
 Now waves a fond adieu, 
 While slowly from his straining eye 
 The vessel glides from view. 
 
 The heir of England's crown of fame 
 Has tears upon his cheek 
 And young Prince Alfred's sohs proclaim 
 The grief he cannot speak. 
 
 And who amongst the thousands there 
 Unmoved can bear the sight, 
 Who does not hope with earnest prayer 
 Their future may be bright. 
 
 The father's sorrow sadly calm 
 Is shared by all to-day, 
 And oft the sailor's sturdy arm 
 Has wiped the tear away. 
 
 Prussia take our bonny flower 
 
 In other lands to dwell ; 
 
 The hands that nursed it hour by hour 
 
 Bid thee protect it well. 
 
 The scion rose has sever'd been 
 From England's parent tree, 
 The root is firm, the leaf is green, 
 We trust the fiomer to thee,
 
 AUTU.MX. 109 
 
 AUTUMN 
 
 o^v REARY autumn, sad and gloomy, 
 ■*§* Ah ! how oft those words we hear, 
 When the summer flowers have faded, 
 And the first dead leaves appear ; 
 
 Thoughtless murmur ; there is beauty 
 In the fruitful Autumn days, 
 Neither Winter, Spring, nor Summer, 
 Can such calm reflections raise. 
 
 Mark the orb of day declining 
 On the woods the light it flings, 
 ILams like rays of glory, falling 
 From some blessed angel's wings ; 
 
 Autumn then alone can give thee 
 Hues so varied, dark, and bright, 
 Ev'ry tree in beauty standeth, 
 'Neath its veil of golden light.
 
 110 AUTUMN". 
 
 Then again the fruitful harvest ; 
 
 Hark ! the reaper's joyous song 
 
 ( tomes from fields where creaking waggons 
 
 Hear the ripened grain along. 
 
 Bending with its purple clusters 
 Now behold the graceful vine, 
 And the Orchard's luscious treasures 
 All for man's delight combine. 
 
 When the leaves are round us falling 
 And the stately trees arc bare, 
 Come not words of gentle warning 
 Floating through the chilly air? 
 
 " Thus " the sad winds softly whisper 
 " Earthly pleasures must decay, 
 " Childhood's rose, and mauhood's beauty 
 " Like the leaves will fade away." 
 
 Let us take our earthly treasures 
 With a grateful, humble heart, 
 For our Father will reclaim them 
 When He wills that we should part. 
 
 Then with calm and happy feelings 
 We shall see the dead leaves fall, 
 Knowing that in joy or sorrow 
 " There's a Watcher over all."
 
 CONSOLATION. I I 
 
 CONSOLATION 
 
 i^HILD of Earth in sorrow weeping 
 s^ For the Spirit pass'd away, 
 
 Mourn her not, she is but sleeping 
 
 Till the resurrection day." 
 
 " Sin and care no more can harm her 
 All her griefs and troubles past, 
 Fears can ne'er again alarm her. 
 Peace and joy are found at last." 
 
 " She has reached that peaceful haven 
 Where the billows never roar, 
 Pass'd the sea where storms were braven, 
 Landed on the heavenly shore." 
 
 " Now before the throne of glory 
 Clad in robes of spotless white, 
 She proclaims the wondrous story 
 Of the Saviour's power and might." 
 
 " Crowned with gold 'mid angels bending 
 In the blest Shekinah's rays, 
 Now the ransomed voice is blending 
 In the endless song of praise.
 
 Ill' CONSOLATION, 
 
 •■ .Mortal ccasr thy vain repining ! 
 Earth has hist a precious gem ; 
 But another jewel shining, 
 Decks the Saviour's diadem." 
 
 '• Left her children's fond caressing, 
 Left her husband's close embrace, 
 She has gained a greater blessing, 
 Found a better resting place." 
 
 " Onward then ! the end before us 
 Let us tread the march of Life, 
 Jesus dwells in Heaven o"er us, 
 He will aid us in the strife." 
 
 " Soon shall cease these sounds of sadness 
 Parted friends again shall meet, 
 Who can paint the joyful gladness 
 When the lov'd and lost we greet," 
 
 " Father may we still adore Thee 
 Till the race of life is run, 
 ( 'rying as we bend before Thee, 
 " Lord of all, Thy will be done." 
 
 " Creator 'tis Thy hand has given, 
 Thou hast right to take away, 
 Lead us still through earth to Heaven, 
 Hear us, when for help we pray."
 
 AN INCIDENT OP ] 858. 113 
 
 AN INCIDENT OF 1858 
 
 jITH caro the loving father raised 
 3X$> That strange and wondrous thing, 
 The gay balloon, that skims the air 
 Like bird upon the wing. 
 
 The children clapped their hands in glee 
 Pleased with their airy flight, 
 And joyous was the Farmer's heart 
 To see his Babes' delight. 
 
 '»' 
 
 Oh ! horror but the rope has left 
 The eager parent's hold, 
 And now that helpless infant pair 
 The fickle winds enfold. 
 
 For miles the wretched father roamed 
 That eve and dreary night, 
 But not a sign of those he'd lost 
 Appear'd to bless his sight. 
 
 Loudly the hapless children call, 
 But none their cry can hear, 
 Higher and higher still they mount, 
 Nought but the breezes near. 
 
 At early dawn with weary foot 
 From home far, far away, 
 The father raised his hands to Heaven 
 Aud blessed the light of day.
 
 H4 AN INCIDENT OF 185S. 
 
 But hope lias lit his straining eye 
 What is it that he sees I 
 The lost balloon has lighted there 
 Upon those bending trees. 
 
 " mercy are my children safe 
 
 Or are their spirits fled." 
 
 These were his thoughts, as up the hill 
 
 With rapid step he sped. 
 
 But hark ! that sound, a childish voice 
 Is calling " Father, dear," 
 Oh ! ne'er had words a charm like those 
 To that fond parent's ear. 
 
 His little Annie clasps his neck 
 And almost screams with joy, 
 While calmly sleeping at her feet 
 Ho sees his fair-haired boy. 
 
 The noble girl her apron warm 
 O'er Willie's form had laid, 
 And soothed him till he soundly slept 
 Then sat, and watch 'd for aid. 
 
 Father of All ! Thy mighty hand 
 Was o'er that infant pair, 
 Thy gracious guidance led them through 
 The tractless paths of air. 
 
 Who taught the tiny hand at last 
 To catch the hanging rope, 
 That brought again all safe to earth 
 The parents' pride and hope ? 
 
 Great God 'twns Thou ! an infant's wail 
 Can reach Thy mighty car, 
 Thy mercy calm'd the father's heart 
 And dried the mother's tear.
 
 AN ACROSTIC. 115 
 
 AN ACROSTIC: 
 
 MANY HAPPY RETURNS OP THE DAY. 
 
 \^>P Y Harp thou hast slumbered too long 
 
 P> gain let thy echoes awake, 
 
 %i ot grand or sublime be my song, 
 
 ►<! et still thy dull silence I'll break. 
 
 E ere then to my Annie I'll pay 
 
 ►> tribute of friendship and love. 
 
 hd reserve her by night and by day 
 
 ►t) rotector and Guardian above. 
 
 ►<! e angels our Father doth send 
 
 y emember my friend as ye roam, 
 
 t^ ach hour as ye lovingly bend 
 
 t-3 o guide us to heaven and home. 
 
 cjp! up ! my dear Annie for years 
 
 £j etreat, and we heed not their flight, 
 
 fe; o earnest entreaties or tears 
 
 w hall summon them back to our sight ; 
 
 O h days that can never return 
 
 **2 or you we will give but a sigh, 
 
 H here's much both to do and to learn 
 
 H ere then to be wise let us try, 
 
 M ach hour may fresh blessings be given 
 
 © efend us, dear Lord, as we roam, 
 
 ►>nd then ye shall lead us to Heaven 
 
 *< e days of the year that's to come !
 
 11G ON THE DEATH OF KING LEOPOLD OF BELGIUM. 
 
 ON THE DEATH 
 
 OF 
 
 KING LEOPOLD OF BELGIUM. 
 
 e&yAREWELL good King ! in ripe old age 
 •$* Thy final summons comes, and calls 
 A brilliant actor from Life's busy stage. — 
 A father from his people falls 
 To sleep in Death, while England takes 
 The hand of France in mutual pain 
 For each has lost a friend. — Now wakes 
 The slumbering past, and dawns again 
 That day of sorrow, when the sound 
 Of millions mourning shook the land. 
 Princess ! no language can be found 
 To tell our woe when Death's stern hand 
 Struck down our cherish'd flower, and now 
 Thy Consort dies !— Wise, good, and brave ; 
 Best lightly earth upon his brow, 
 Close gently o'er him, silent Grave !
 
 ON THE WRECK OP THE "LONDON." 117 
 
 ON THE WRECK OF THE "LONDON," 
 
 ON HER PASSAGE TO MELBOURNE, 
 
 JANUARY llTH, 1866. 
 
 f^HE vessel starts with all her goodly freight, 
 
 ~V" More than two hundred precious souls await, 
 
 With her their journey's end ! — Bright youth is there, 
 
 Old age, proud manhood, habes with clust'ring hair, 
 
 And tender mothers — hopes are high, and bright 
 
 Expectancy of meetings lends a light 
 
 To many an eye, for they are going home, 
 
 Yes, " going home." — The mocking billows foam 
 
 In echo, while the rocks reiterate 
 
 Far down the deep. — " Home," cry the waves elate, 
 
 " Yes, they are going home." — A few short days 
 
 On stormy seas— the timid shake — fear preys 
 
 On storm proof sailors. — See the vessel now ! 
 
 Torn is her sail, and batter'd is her prow. 
 
 An awful night — and cold, dark morning dawns, 
 
 They learn their fate — no shriek ! no cry ! now mourns 
 
 The mother calmly — all unite to pray 
 
 Not " save us Lord," but, " take us God away, 
 
 From this sad scene "; and with undaunted eye 
 
 The Captain cries, " I wait with them to die." 
 
 A rush of angry waves, a maddening roar 
 
 Of waters, one loud cry, and all is o'er.
 
 118 TO MY OLD SCHOOLFELLOWS. 
 
 Seas keep the silent dead — The tempest locks 
 The treasures from our sight. — Old ocean rocks 
 The hahes asleep. — In peace they rest ; hut we 
 The living, mourn the stern heart-rending history, 
 Of this sad wreck at sea. 
 
 TO MY OLD SCHOOLFELLOWS. 
 
 <Xl WHERE are my schoolmates from first to last ? 
 
 L 
 
 V^ I see them sometimes as the years roll past, 
 And greet in the street with a formal how, 
 A face once familiar, hut alter'd now. 
 Some married, some single, and some have found 
 A rest from their cares in the burial ground ; 
 A few have embarked o'er the waters foam 
 And gain'd in the distance a pleasant home, 
 And yet we were mates both in work and play 
 And conn'd the same lessons by eve and by day. 
 On earth we shall never all meet again, 
 The thought thrills my heart with a throb of pain, 
 But may we be gather'd when time shall cease, 
 And kneel round the Father of Heaven in peace I
 
 LAW, PHYSIC, AND FAKMING, ETC. 119 
 
 LAW, PHYSIC, AND FARMING 
 
 OP 
 
 THE PRESENT DAY. 
 
 'v^'M sure it must be a most terrible bore 
 
 «v» To learn all the Terms of the solemn old Law 
 
 The books are so big and therein do contain 
 
 Much matter though written quite clearly and plain 
 
 To have and to hold all their literal sense 
 
 Is worse than the adding of shillings and pence 
 
 And wliereas the said boohs they so often revise 
 
 A lawyer must have uncommon strong eyes 
 
 His lungs must be strong too to sit without cold 
 
 In room full of drafts smelling fusty and old 
 
 But he only laughs and doth thereby declare 
 
 He likes them and takes so much good in the Heir 
 
 Shakes pen on the floor gives a long weary gape 
 
 Then asks about post time and clips the red tape 
 
 And though he's so clever it does not sound bright 
 
 To say that on foolscap he often doth write, 
 
 I wish he would dress rather smarter don't you 
 
 But no he prefers an old suit to a new 
 
 And whereas we wonder a lawyer is thin 
 
 The meat that he lives on is nothing but shin 
 
 In witness whereof I will just state my case 
 
 Said skin is a document bearing a space
 
 120 LAV/, PHYSIC, AND FARMING, ETC. 
 
 Indented at top with a stamp on the side 
 
 In width and in length of these preterits confide 
 
 The lawyers of England a dower to gain 
 
 Their wives to enrich and their babes to maintain 
 
 So dying they leave to their heirs or to heir 
 
 Inheritance trim for his her own or their 
 
 Eight absolute use amd possession but here 
 
 I stop or my readers will certainly fear 
 
 No stop is in me like the lawyer's said shin 
 
 To curtail not entail 'tis time to begin 
 
 Itclaw I would add just a word or two more 
 
 These lines are called Poetry versus the Law. 
 
 PHYSIC. 
 
 " Oh, don't forget the doctor pray," 
 
 No, certainly I'll not, 
 
 So here he comes douce man to-day. 
 
 With pill and gallipot ; 
 
 Directions on his bottles tied, 
 
 A teaspoonful or two, 
 
 And keep the blister on the side, 
 
 Ten minutes, that will do, 
 
 " Oh doctor, I feel very bad," 
 
 "Well, just come to the light, 
 
 " Say nurse, what has the patient had," 
 
 " The tongue looks rather white ? 
 
 "A dose of castor oil I think, 
 
 " To carry off the bile, 
 
 '• Be careful what you eat and drink, 
 
 " And rest yourself awhile, 
 
 " Not strong, the constitution's weak, 
 
 " A tonic I must send, 
 
 "A little Hush upon the cheek, 
 
 " But by and bye he'll mend." 
 
 • * * * *
 
 II 
 
 LAW, PHYSIC, AND FARMING, ETC. 121 
 
 Next visit — toothache — " dear, oh dear, 
 
 " It wholly breaks my rest," 
 
 " I'm sorry, really Mam, I fear, 
 
 M To have it out is best, 
 
 " Oh never flinch for teeth like these, 
 
 " I've drawn out many such, 
 
 " Now lean the head back if you please — 
 
 I did not hurt you much." 
 Oh doctor, doctor, naughty man ! 
 You know that is not true, 
 I think t'would be a famous plan, 
 To try the hey on you ! 
 Thus on he goes with visage grave, 
 We know his time to call, 
 He heals our ills, so cry, " God save 
 The doctors one and all, 
 Let JEsculapius honour'd be, 
 Exalt the healing art, 
 The knife is used most skilfully, 
 So never mind the smart. 
 
 FARMING. 
 
 The farmer comes 1 my sturdy friend, 
 Good honest man, his days be long ! 
 The fruitful fields and pastures lend 
 A helping hand to child of song. 
 Ah ! now the farmer's heart is sad, 
 He smiles not as in days of yore, 
 But shakes his head, says " Times are bad, 
 " And ruin threatens at our door." 
 Destroy kind Heaven that dreaded Gnome, 
 And let the weary laud have rest, 
 Oh ! banish from our country home, 
 The fell and frightful Rinderpest !
 
 12 
 
 He takes his way with silent tread, 
 But woe 1 to farms where he has pass'd, 
 The noble herd by hundreds dead, 
 Present a fearful holocaust, 
 Omnipotent I regard our weal, 
 In pity heed a nation's ills, 
 Look down, oh, Lord our God, and heal 
 <: The cattle on a thousand hills." 
 
 " THE PATTERN MOTHER." 
 
 fH ! Woman let no blush of shame, 
 O'erspread thy features when I name, 
 " The Pattern Mother," Rome's proud pair, 
 Cornelia's brightest jewels were, 
 She who the noble Gracchi bore, 
 Deserved her fame — Great Alfred's lore, 
 Commenced in childhood's early days, 
 Was foster'd by his mother's praise, 
 Revere her name ! each bard has sung, 
 "A mother's love," and ev'ry tongue, 
 Proclaims her self-denying deeds, 
 And efforts for her babes ; she needs 
 No tribute from my humble pen. 
 My Pattern is the " Common Hen," 
 The Lord of Glory docs not scorn, 
 To point to her — Behold him mourn, 
 Jerusalem's untimely end, 
 " Salem 1 lost ! no hope I no friend ! 
 " Yet as the Hen beneath her wing, 
 " Her chickens gathers, I would fling, 
 " My sheltering arms o'er thee, but no I
 
 DEATH TO THE CHILD. 123 
 
 " Thy children chose their lot of woe, 
 " And ruin shall be thine." 
 
 Poor bird, 
 The Saviour marked thee, have I err'd, 
 In calling thee my Pattern ? Nay, 
 'Twere well if mothers ev'ry day, 
 Would imitate thine ardent zeal, 
 And forethought for their offspring's weal, 
 With this addition, to thy care, 
 A Christian's Faith, a Christian's Prayer. 
 
 DEATH TO THE CHILD. 
 
 6- 
 
 ^sftN life's full health and rosy glow, 
 
 <^ The hours of childhood calmly flow 
 
 Unthinkingly away ; no thought 
 
 Of death a child can know, though taught 
 
 It oft. by Scripture tale, and hymn, 
 
 It is to him a shadow dim, 
 
 Vague, undefined, reality. 
 
 A dreamless sleep, whence none can see 
 
 The sleeper wake again, and yet 
 
 Full oft in fearful guise, is met 
 
 That end of all — the cold dark wave 
 
 Hath been to some an early grave, 
 
 More awful too, and far more dread, 
 
 The fire's lurid flame has spread, 
 
 O'er childhood's helpless form, " O thou 
 
 Omniscient Lord of Glory I bow 
 
 Thine ear to hear our earnest prayer, 
 
 In mercy keep our children fair, 
 
 From death so stern as this ; for vain
 
 124 TO MY BABY. 
 
 The feeble hand of man to rein, 
 lied fire's angry steed. — Oh ! spread 
 Thy Guardian Hands o'er childhood's head, 
 Avert the danger near, and take 
 The little ones in peace ; oh, make 
 Their death, indeed, a tranquil sleep. 
 So while, o'er faded flowers we weep, 
 Love's last fond kiss is calmly given, 
 And angels hear our Babes to Heaven." 
 
 TO MY BABY. 
 
 /&LEEP on ! sleep on ! my baby dear, 
 tfifj In peace, sleep on, my child, 
 Sleep like the sea bird rocked to rest 
 Upon the ocean wild. 
 
 I watch thy sleeping form my babe, 
 And strive the while to trace, 
 What character in future years, 
 Shall stamp this baby face. 
 
 There's thought upon thy snowy brow, 
 And gentleness and love, 
 Are breathing from thy dimpled mouth, 
 With meekness of the dove. 
 
 This little hand that's folded now, 
 In calm and sweet repose, 
 O will it ope when older grown, 
 To ease another's woes ?
 
 NORWICH. 125 
 
 This tiny foot that carelessly 
 Doth spurn the covering light, 
 Say will it hear its owner then, 
 To do the thing that's right 1 
 
 And sa3 r , will heart felt piety 
 Illume thy deep blue eye. 
 And voice of earnest feeling tell, 
 Thy hopes are placed on high. 
 
 Thou smilest now my pretty one, 
 Do angels o'er thee bend, 
 And tell thee of thy Saviour kind, 
 The little children's friend 1 
 
 To Him we trust thee, baby dear, 
 Our lily floweret fair, 
 And He will be thy guide and guard, 
 And hear thy mother's prayer. 
 
 NORWICH, 
 
 FROM MOUSEHOLD JUST BEFORE SUNSET, 
 MY NATIVE CITY. 
 
 ^nE NEATH my feet the fine old City lies, 
 ■^r Far off I hear the many mingled cries, 
 The rattling wheels, and busy din of trade. 
 There stands the Noble Minster half in shade, 
 And half in golden light — erect and tall, 
 The tap'ring spire — while o'er the Eastern wall,
 
 126 NORWICH. 
 
 Intruding ivy steals, and perfect, yet 
 The sculptur'd saints from lofty parapet, 
 Look sternly down— Far left, on summit steep, 
 The haughty Castle frowns with ancient Keep, 
 More modern granite walls, and Bigod's Tower 
 In hold relief — Saint Giles's chimes the hour, 
 And lower sinks the sun— Guild Hall, the mart 
 Of trade, Saint Peter's Church, and School of Art, 
 Pull's Ferry, Bridge, and River, yonder old 
 Half-ruined Tower, Church, on Church, unfold 
 Before my gazing eye.— The Grammar School, 
 That boasts of Nelson taught the classic rule 
 Within its walls.— The Palace Garden fair, 
 The Close with arch'd and gated entrance there, 
 And here, tho Barracks, with Saint James's Hill, 
 And Household's Heath clad heights.— Now does 
 
 there still 
 Remain Saint Andrew's Hall, the Banks, Exchange, 
 Museum — Norwich ! wrapt in thought I range, 
 O'er streets and buildings so familiar ; yet, 
 A stranger now ! forgive, if I forget, 
 Thou " City in a Garden," any stone 
 Of thee 1— Saint Peter's Bells with thrilling tone, 
 Rise on the evening breeze in cadence sad, 
 And mournful harmony, O days of glad 
 And favor'd childhood here, your mem'ries dwell, 
 The sun has set — one word — it is the last — 
 
 FAREWELL !
 
 ON THE DEATH OP PRINCE ALBERT. 127 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF PRINCE ALBERT. 
 
 >Jv AUGHTERS of Albion weep for Prince Albert, 
 <& Sons of proud Britain restrain not the tear, 
 Bring ye the Rose, the Shamrock, and Thistlo, 
 Tokens of sorrow to fade on his bier. 
 
 Wisely he dwelt in the land of the stranger, 
 Never assailing her well-founded laws, 
 " Albert the good," we will write on thy tombstone, 
 "Ardent supporter of equity's cause." 
 
 Heard ye the whirring of Death's fatal arrow, 
 Aimed at its victim on Life's autnmn day ? 
 Slowly the sand grains are leaving Time's hour glass, 
 Softly the tidewave is ebbing away. 
 
 Soul of the righteous ! to Heaven departing, 
 Darkness and grief beneath thee are spread, 
 Yet from thy wings fall the rayons of glory, 
 Halo immortal, encircling the dead. 
 
 Say it of him, like Fabricius the Roman, 
 
 Holding his deeds and his writings in sight, 
 
 " Turn the sun from its course, but Albert would never 
 
 Swerve from the path that was holy and right." 
 
 Surely a great man hath this day departed, 
 Leaving a nation in sorrow and gloom, 
 Toll ye the bell, for a firm and a faithful 
 Friend of our country, is borne to the tomb !
 
 w 
 
 ONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Way of Life. 1 
 
 To Ellen 21 
 
 The Dream 23 
 
 The Last Sleep of Argyle .... 28 
 
 Was Flowers 30 
 
 " He waited neath the Trees "... 32 
 
 Kneel and Pray 34 
 
 The Wedding 36 
 
 Parting 38 
 
 Wales 40
 
 130 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Lament of Amy, Countess of Leicester . 42 
 
 The First Spring Butterfly ... 43 
 
 The Christmas Tree 46 
 
 A Plea for the Orphan .... 53 
 
 The Poet 54 
 
 Listen 66 
 
 Smiles and Tears 57 
 
 My Cottage Home 08 
 
 On Lord Palmerston CO 
 
 Wreck of the Gorleston Life- Boat . . 61 
 
 Life G2 
 
 Heaven 04 
 
 Lying Man 05 
 
 " Come unto me" 00 
 
 The dying Girl 69 
 
 «« I bless Thee Lord " .... 71 
 
 On, Christian, on 72 
 
 " Come Holy Spirit " 73 
 
 Sabbath Eve 74 
 
 Weep not 75 
 
 White man in Africa 77 
 
 Mary. 79 
 
 Christmas Song 80 
 
 Death of Cajsar 82
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 131 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Child's Evening Prayer 
 
 84 
 
 The Bride 
 
 86 
 
 Renieniher God 
 
 88 
 
 Learn of Nature .... 
 
 89 
 
 
 91 
 
 
 92 
 
 
 
 Happiness 
 
 95 
 
 
 
 The Reveille 
 
 98 
 
 Health 
 
 
 Yes thou art gone .... 
 
 100 
 
 
 
 The favorite Tree .... 
 
 103 
 
 
 
 Departure of the Princess Royal 
 
 107 
 
 
 
 
 111 
 
 
 
 
 115 
 
 Death of King Leopold 
 
 116 
 
 Wreck of the " London " . 
 
 117 
 
 My Schoolfellows .... 
 
 118 
 
 Law, Physic, and Farming 
 
 119
 
 132 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Pattern Mother 122 
 
 Death to the Child 123 
 
 My Baby 124 
 
 Norwich 125 
 
 Prinoe Albert 127 
 
 FIX IS. 
 
 VIUNTED AND PUULISUED BY E. ABBOTT, EXIUIES3 OFFICE, DISS.
 
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