LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, Clj;i|i. Coining! fy,. Shelf UNITED STATES OP AMERICA. Longfellow Gems ILLUSTRATED BY W. GOODRICH BEAL BOSTON SAMUEL E. CASSINO 196 Summer Street \ Copyrighted, 1SS9, By Samuel E. Cassino C. |. Pi ti rs Typographers and Blbctrotypbrs, . Mass. TO THE RIVER CHARLES. River ! that in silence windest Through the meadows, bright and free, Thou has taught me, Silent River! Many a lesson, deep and long ; Thou hast been a generous giver; Till at length thy rest thou findest In the bosom of the sea! I can give thee but a song. Four long years of mingled feeling. Half in rest, and half in strife, I have seen thy waters stealing Onward, like the stream of life. Oft in sadness and in illness I have watched thy current glide, Till the beauty of its stillness Overflowed me, like a tide. ~ THE RAINY DAY. The day is cold, and dark, and dreary ; It rain's, and the wind is never weary ; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary. My life is cold, and dark, and dreary ; It rains, and the wind is never weary ; My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, And the days are dark and dreary. Be still, sad heart ! and cease repining ; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining • Thy fife is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary. SUNRISE ON THE HILLS. I stood upon the bills, when heaven's vide arch Was glorious with the sun's returning march, And woods were brightened, and soft gales Went forth to kiss the sun-clad vales. The clouds were far beneath me ; — bathed in light, They gathered mid-way round the wooded height, And, in their fading-glory, shone Like hosts in battle overthrown, As many a pinnacle, with shifting glance, Through the gray mist thrust up its shattered lance, And rocking on the cliff was left The dark pine blasted, bare, and cleft. **+- ' WOODS IN WINTER. When winter winds are piercing chill, And through the hawthorn blows the gale, With solemn feet I tread the hill, That over -brows the lonely vale. Alas ! how changed from the fair scene, When birds sang out their mel- low lay, And winds were soft, and woods were green, And the song ceased not with the day. O'er the bare upland, and away Through the long reach of desert woods, The embracing sunbeams chastely play, And gladden these deep solitudes. But still wild music is abroad. Pale, desert woods ! within your crowd ; And gathering winds, in hoarse accord, Amid the vocal reeds pipe loud. ft BURIAL OF THE MINNISINK. On sunny slope and beechen In the warm blush of evening sbone ; swell, An image of the silver lakes. The shadowed light of evening fell ; By which the Indian's soul awakes. And, where the maple's leaf was brown, With soft ami silent lapse came T , , ' u ., , ., , . Where the soft breath of evening The glory, that the wood receives, *• J At sunset , in its brazen leaves. But soon a funeral hymn was heard The tall, gray forest ; and a hand Of stem in heart, and strong in Far upward in the mellow light hand. Rose the blue hills. One eland of Came winding down beside the white, leave. Around a far uplifted cone, To lay the red chief in his grave. -i H : f\ ^tBB ^\^3fcr-* m ^■j» • >'% ■