CIHM 
 
 Microfiche 
 
 Series 
 
 (Monographs) 
 
 ICIMH 
 
 Collection de 
 microfiches 
 (monographles) 
 
 Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian da microreproductions historiquaa 
 
 
Technical and Bibliographic Notes / Notes techniques et bibliographiques 
 
 itoriquas 
 
 The Institute has attempted to obtain the best original 
 copy available for filming. Features of this copy which 
 may be bibliographically unique, which may alter any 
 of the images in the reproduction, or which may 
 significantly change the usual method of filming, are 
 checked below. 
 
 Coloured covers/ 
 Couverture de couleur 
 
 I I Covers damaged/ 
 
 Couverture endommag^ 
 
 □ Covers restored and/or laminated/ 
 Couverture restauree et/ou peliicuite 
 
 □ Cover title missing/ 
 Le titre de couverture manque 
 
 □ Coloured maps/ 
 Cartes g^ographiques en couleur 
 
 
 n 
 
 n 
 
 Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/ 
 Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire) 
 
 Coloured plates and/or illustrations/ 
 Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur 
 
 Bound with other material/ 
 Relie avec d'autres documents 
 
 Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion 
 along interior margin/ 
 La reliure serree peut causer de I'ombre ou de la 
 distorsion le long de la marge interieure 
 
 Blank leaves added during restoration may appear 
 within the text. Whenever possible, these have 
 been omitted from filming/ 
 II se peut que certaines pages blanches ajouties 
 lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans le text*, 
 mais, lorsque cela etait possible, ces pages n'ont 
 pas ete f ilmees. 
 
 Additional comments:/ 
 Commentaires supplementaires: 
 
 L'Institut a microfilm^ le meilleur exehiplaire qu'il 
 lui a iti possible de se procurer. Les details de cet 
 exemplaire qui sont peut-«tre uniques du point de vue 
 bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier une image 
 reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une modification 
 dans la methode normale de f ilmage sont indiqui^ 
 ci-dessous. 
 
 □ Coloured pages/ 
 Pages de couleur 
 
 □ Pages damaged/ 
 Pages endommagees 
 
 □ Pages restored and/or laminated/ 
 Pages restaurees et/ou peiliculies 
 
 Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/ 
 Pages decolorees, tachetees ou piquees 
 
 □ Pages detached/ 
 Pages detaches 
 
 EShowthrough/ 
 Transparence 
 
 varies/ 
 negale de I'impression 
 
 Quality of print vi 
 Qualite inegale de 
 
 □ Continuous pagination/ 
 Pagination continue 
 
 □ Includes index(es)/ 
 Comprend un (des) index 
 
 Title on header taken from:/ 
 Le titre de l'en-t«te provient: 
 
 □ Title page of issue 
 Page de titre de la 
 
 □ Caption of issue/ 
 Titre de depart de la 
 
 D 
 
 livraison 
 
 livraison 
 
 Masthead/ 
 
 Generique (periodiques) de la livraison 
 
 This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/ 
 
 Ce document est f ilme au taux de reduction indique ci-dessous. 
 
 22X 
 
 12X 
 
 16X 
 
 20X 
 
 26 X 
 
 30X 
 
 24 X 
 
 28 X 
 
 ID 
 
 32 X 
 
The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks 
 to the generosity of: 
 
 National Library of Canada 
 
 The images appearing here are the best quality 
 possible considering the condition and legibility 
 of the original copy and in keeping with the 
 filming contract specifications. 
 
 Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed 
 beginning with the front cover and ending on 
 the last page with a printed or illustrated impres- 
 sion, or the back cover when appropriate. AM 
 other original copies are filmed beginning on the 
 first page with a printed or illustrated impres- 
 sion, and ending on the last page with a printed 
 or illustrated impression. 
 
 The last recorded frame on each microfiche 
 shall contain the symbol — ^- (meaning "CON- 
 TINUED"), or the symbol V (meaning "END' ), 
 whichever applies. 
 
 Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at 
 different reduction ratios. Those too large to be 
 entirely included in one exposure are filmed 
 beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to 
 right and top to bottom, as many frames as 
 required. The following diagrams illustrate the 
 method: 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 
ed thanks 
 da 
 
 L'exemplaire film6 fut reproduit grdce d la 
 g^ndrositd de: 
 
 Bibliothdque nationale du Canada 
 
 quality 
 agibility 
 the 
 
 Les images suivantes ont 6t6 reproduites avec le 
 plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et 
 de la nettetd de l'exemplaire film6, et en 
 conformity avec les conditions du contrat de 
 filmage. 
 
 ire filmed 
 ng on 
 d impres- 
 e. All 
 ig on the 
 ipres- 
 printed 
 
 Les exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en 
 papier est imprimde sont film6s en commenpant 
 par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la 
 dernidre page qui comporte une empreinte 
 d'impression ou d'illustration, soit par le second 
 plat, selon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires 
 originaux sont filmds en commenqant par la 
 premidre page qui comporte une empreinte 
 d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par 
 la dernidre page qui comporte une telle 
 empreinte. 
 
 che 
 CON- 
 END'), 
 
 Un des symboles sulvants apparaitra sur la 
 dernidre image de cheque microfiche, selon le 
 cas: le svmbole —^ signifie "A SUIVRE", le 
 symbole V signifie "FIN". 
 
 i at 
 
 ie to be 
 ned 
 left to 
 s as 
 ite the 
 
 Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre 
 film6s d des taux de reduction diffdrents. 
 Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre 
 reproduit en un seul cliche, il est film6 d partir 
 de Tangle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche d droite, 
 et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre 
 d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants 
 illustrent la mdthode. 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
MICRvXOPY RESOLUTION TEST CHART 
 
 (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 
 
 1.0 
 
 1^ 
 
 IM 111112.5 
 
 2.8 
 
 H 3 2 
 
 1 3.6 11111^= 
 
 4.0 mil 2.0 
 
 1.8 
 
 ^ .APPLIED IfVUIGE 
 
 1653 East Main Street 
 
 Rochester, New York 14609 USA 
 
 (716) 482 -OJOO- Phone 
 
 (716) 288-5989 -Fax 
 

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