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 PRINTED BY J. AND XV. BIDltB, 
 
 BARTNOI.OM EW CLOSE,
 
 n. 
 
 T3 3/ 
 
 NICOLAS TORE. 
 
 FROM BIS -Most AFFECTIONATE WIFE. 
 
 ELOVED ! on this festal morn, 
 The birthday of another year, 
 What welcome offering can I bring 
 To thee, of all ou earth most dear ? 
 No gem of price from eastern lands, 
 
 No rare or costly gift havi I, 
 Only a few wild flowers of song, 
 A wreath of gentle poesy. 
 
 Ami thongh to other 3S fond, 
 
 Hut worthless all their hues would be, 
 
 ¥et, dearest, still I know full well, 
 That precious they will aeem to if. 
 
 And oh, within the faithful heart. 
 What pure and joyful feelings Bpring! 
 
 To think affection priceless deems 
 The smallest offering Love can bring. 
 
 B 

 
 To me these youthful lays recall 
 
 The dreams and thoughts of former years, 
 Till every scene that gave them birth 
 
 Returns with all its hopes and fears 
 I see the shades of other days 
 
 Revive with every artless strain ; 
 And, wrapped in Memory's dreams, retrace 
 
 The hours that ne'er can come again. 
 
 But never did their heart-warm strains 
 
 With faults so few appear to me, 
 As when thou badest me trace once more 
 
 These records of the past for thee. 
 That task is done ! Then take this gift 
 
 From one to whom thou art so dear, — 
 And keep, still keep it, for the sake 
 
 Of her whose hand hath traced them here. 
 
 Another year of peace and love, 
 
 With noiseless steps hath reached its close, 
 And only found us still more blest 
 
 Than when its first pale beam arose : 
 Mercy hath still each blessing spared 
 
 That crowned with bliss our lot below ; 
 And one sweet flower, which bloomed not then, 
 
 Sheds fragrance o'er our pathway now. 
 
 What blessing for the coming year, 
 Denies!, can 1 implore for thee ? — 
 
 The best ; that sent to us in love, 
 Pleasure and pain alike may be :
 
 .; 
 
 That \w may still, through every chang . 
 
 Out best affections fis ab< 
 Ami share together joy or woe, 
 
 With mingled hearts and changeless love. 
 
 E. 
 
 January 1st, 1839. 
 
 'JQ5"
 
 BALAAM. 
 
 Numbers xxiii. 24. 
 
 IGHT'S veil of darkness slowly melts away, 
 And rosy clouds proclaim the coming day. 
 See ! gathering light illumes the eastern sky, 
 And, quenched in day, the lingering shadows 
 
 fly: 
 
 Now one by one the fading stars expire, 
 
 And all the glowing sky seems wrapped in fire, 
 
 Till, rising slowly o'er the mountain's brow, 
 
 Which shines in hues of varied beauty now, 
 
 All bright and glorious comes the orb of day, 
 
 And pours on Moab's land his golden ray. 
 
 Glad Nature smiles, and Jordan's distant streams, 
 
 New glistening, dance beneath his fiery beams ; 
 
 While in the limpid wave reflected clear, 
 
 The glowing clouds and gorgeous skies appear. 
 
 Still o'er the earth the mists of morning rest, 
 
 And shroud in silver robe the mountain's en 
 
 O'er every object cast a veil of snow, 
 
 And hide in mantling clouds the plains below. 
 
 But now the balmy zephyr gently breathes, 
 
 And slow ascending all in dewy wreathes, 
 
 The curling vapours rise from off the land.
 
 
 And brighl once nn.iv her rales in beauty stand. 
 But lo ! what Bcene Unlooked-for meets the eye ? 
 There, far and w ide, the tents of Israel lie, 
 In snowy whiteness o'er the distant plain, 
 Like heaving billows on the restless main, 
 And scattered wide, in countless [lumbers, si 
 i'" those who gaze — the phantoms *A' a dream ! 
 ■ Bow came they there ? <>h ! can they, can they be, 
 The far-famed race who passed o'er Egypt's sea ? 
 And led by fire at last have reached our land, 
 The blest of Heaven — the dread, resistless hand ? 
 They must not linger here ! They dare not stay ! 
 Arise, ye Btranger tribes, and haste away !" 
 
 I Jut see ! on yonder mountain's towering brow, 
 What fiery beacons beam in brightness now ! 
 
 Their form and sacred number seem to tell 
 Of seme dark heathen rite, or mystic spell. 
 And who are they who stand in silence there, 
 And watch the lianas that Bickering rise in air? 
 One 1 tends on Israel's tents his anxious gaze, 
 Then turns to him who feeds the brightening bla: 
 As if to trace in that dark, sunken eye. 
 
 Some passing gleam to light Futurity ; 
 
 And seems to watch, with mine-led hope and fear. 
 For those dark words he inly longed t<> hear. 
 "Tis he! 'tis Moah's king !— and with him stand-. 
 Deep musing o'er the wide-spread Btranger bands, 
 That gifted man — that far-famed haughty Beer, 
 Whom king and people all alike revere. 
 That day he came to meet his lord's I'd 
 And curse the tribes whom God himself had blest
 
 To blast the peaceful race he deemed his foe, 
 And call the aid of Hell to work them woe ; 
 While king and people stand around to hear 
 Those awful words— those thrilling tones of fear ! 
 
 And do they think their vain and childish wrath 
 
 Can cast one darkening cloud across the path 
 
 Of those whom God himself vouchsafes to bless, 
 
 And lead to joy and peace and happiness ? 
 
 Oh ! when will man at last awake to see 
 
 His true condition here, and bend the knee 
 
 To Him whose hand directs this earth below, 
 
 And pours for all their cup of joy or woe ? 
 
 That impious rite is o'er, the sacred fires 
 
 Are sinking fast, and Balaam now retires 
 
 To see if God perchance will meet him there, 
 
 And deign to grant his dread unhallowed prayer. 
 
 But Balak rests beside the altars still, 
 
 And waits in silent awe to hear His will : 
 
 Yet o'er that changing cheek and darkening brow 
 
 The clouds that pass each varied feeling show, — 
 
 The mingled hope and fear, and, more than all, 
 
 The wild desire to see a nation fall 
 
 Beneath the awful curse's withering sway, 
 
 And like an evening meteor pass away ! 
 
 But, lo ! the prophet comes ; his eagle eye 
 
 is lit witli lustre beaming from on high. 
 
 And o'er his features, pale and sad till now, 
 
 A move than earthly lustre seems to glow. 
 
 The Lord hath met him ! Balak, haste, draw nigh 
 
 And hear the words of Him who cannot lie. 
 
 O'er Israel's tents the prophet gazes now, 
 
 Till bursting forth these heaven-taught accents flow:-
 
 " Rise, Balak ! king of Bioab, rise ! 
 Prom where yon mountain meets the skies. 
 
 Thy word thou know'st has brought me here, 
 To curse for thee you peaceful band, — 
 Far-famed through many a distant land, — 
 
 Whom thou dost hate, yet inly fear. 
 
 •• How can I curse whom God hath blest? 
 How can I cause oue cloud to rest 
 
 On those whom Ee vouchsafes to Love? 
 How can J dare their tribes defy, 
 
 Or hid their countless numbers fly, 
 
 When He their strength and might will prove? 
 
 " For from the rocks 1 view him now ; 
 His bannered lines and tents of snow 
 
 From every tower and hill I see. 
 Yon tribes, whose numbers none can tell, 
 Ahme upou the earth shall dwell, 
 
 Nor numbered 'mid the nations be. 
 
 " Oh, Jacob ! who thy dust can count ? 
 Or who can tell the vast amount 
 
 That swells thy more than earthly bliss? 
 When hence my parting bouI must fly, 
 oh ! let me like the righteous die, 
 
 And hi' my latter end like hi 
 
 Be pauses now. Slowly the heavenly ray 
 That lit his gleaming eye has passed away, 
 And lost in thought he stands, till o'er his ear 
 The monarch's tones of mingled wrath and fear 
 Oome like the voice which breaks the mourner's sleep, 
 And calls him back from dreams of bliss — to weep.
 
 8 
 
 " What hast thou done ? False, fickle Balaam, say. 
 To curse my foes I brought thee here this day ; 
 I bade thee curse, and thou hast dared instead 
 To pour the richest blessings on their head." 
 
 "And must I not what God hath said declare?" 
 The prophet calm replies. " I only bear 
 The message He hath sent by me this day : 
 He bade me bless, and could I disobey ? " 
 
 " No, Prophet, no ; but come with me again 
 To where yon mountain rises o'er the plain ; 
 Thine eye beholds their countless numbers here, 
 From thence their utmost parts alone appear ; 
 Again we'll light the fires and pour the prayer, — 
 Perchance the Lord will let thee curse them tJiere." 
 
 The scene is changed, and now on Pisgah's height 
 
 The noontide ray is glancing fiercely bright ; 
 
 Whilst all around Creation's glories seem 
 
 To droop in faintness 'neath that fiery beam ; 
 
 In vain the aching vision seeks to rest 
 
 On yonder valley's calm and verdant breast, 
 
 For plain and mountain, rock and forest, now 
 
 Dazzling alike in painful lustre glow ; 
 
 While far beyond, in glittering whiteness clear, 
 
 The boundless plains of desert sand appear. 
 
 No zephyr breathes to fan the sultry air, 
 
 No welcome cloud, no shadow dims the glare, 
 
 But all alike must droop beneath its power, 
 
 And long once more to greet the evening hour, — 
 
 That hour of still delight and tranquil rest, 
 
 Which charms the eye, and soothes the anxious breasi
 
 Bo calm, so bright, — alas! bo quickly pi 
 In every land the Loveliest, though the li 
 
 Bui when the noontide sunbeam fiercesl glows, 
 
 And stretched in nerveless languor all repose, 
 
 See, see! in Zophim's field, on Pisgah's brow, 
 
 The Bame dark forms are moving slowly now, 
 
 And once again those sevenfold beacons rise, 
 
 In flickering lustre, inwards the dark blue ski' 
 
 The spell is wrought, the mystic rite is o'er, 
 
 And Balaam goes to meet his God once more, 
 
 While faint and worn the panting nobles rest 
 
 Their weary limbs on earth's maternal in-east. 
 
 But no repose the monarch yet requires, 
 
 Mr restless paces round the fading fires, 
 
 And starts at every leaf that stirs in air, 
 
 Expecting still to see the prophet there. 
 
 He comes at last ! Bright is the heavenly ray 
 
 That o'er his glowing features seems to play. 
 
 But Balak silent, waits, in anxious fear, 
 
 The words he Longed yet scarcely hoped to hear; 
 
 Whilst awe, and many a feeling undefined 
 
 Of coming woe, sweep o'er his restless mind, 
 
 And vengeful thoughts he would not man should know. 
 
 Xow fire his eye, and cloud his darkening brow. 
 
 •• What hast thou heard again?" at LasI he cri - 
 
 And thus in words of power khe seer replies :— 
 
 •' Rise, Balak ! Kin-- of Moab, now draw nigh 
 And hear : — God is not man that He Bhould Lie, 
 ( ir son of man, to chanj more 
 
 The word that He declared before.
 
 10 
 
 Oh! hath He said,- — and shall He not fulfil? 
 
 Or spoken, — shall He not perform it still ? 
 " Behold! behold! I bear His high command 
 
 To pour a blessing on yon favoured band ! 
 Yea, He, their God, who reigns above, 
 Hath deigned to gird them with His love. 
 
 And mortal man cannot reverse for thee 
 
 His sovereign will, or change His high decree. 
 
 " For, lo ! iniquity He hath not seen 
 In Jacob's race ; no evil there hath been : 
 God is among them, and there rings 
 Amidst their hosts the shout of kings. 
 The Lord has led them forth upon their way, 
 And He will prove their constant strength and stay. 
 
 " Thrice blessed race ! Each dark unhallowed spell 
 For woe to Jacob wrought shall surely fail. 
 Oh, yes ! in other, distant days 
 Full many an eye shall love to gaze 
 On Israel's heaven-led course with wonders fraught, 
 And humbly cry, ' What hath Jehovah wrought ? ' 
 
 " For, lo ! as with the dark returning night 
 The lion rises girt with kingly might, 
 • So shall yon favoured nation rise; 
 
 So shall they lift them to the skies, 
 Nor rest till, like the forest monarch's prey, 
 Each rebel foe shall bow beneath their sway." 
 
 Again the trance is o'er ! In silent awe 
 He stands, deep musing on the scene he saw,
 
 11 
 
 When, wrapped in prophel visions, Israel's mighl 
 And future glory rose bi R - Bight. 
 Winn heavenly radiance burs! the mantling gloom 
 Thai veils from human eye long years to ■ -. 
 And many a yei far distanl scene of light 
 Beamed through the mis! of i tadowy bright, 
 
 And showed in dim relief the wondrous 
 Of love and peace to fallen, guilty man. 
 Bui he who heard, with gathering fear and wrath. 
 Those words ofblesBing poured on Israel's path, 
 Can now no more his grief and dread contain. 
 "Oh ! curse them not, but bless them not again !" 
 Be sadly erics. 
 
 "Nay, told I not to thee 
 That every word the Lord vouchsafes to Die 
 I must declare, — nor dare my lips to seal 
 For thee. (> Kim:, — but all lie speaks i 
 Thus says the seer ; bul Moab's monarch, still 
 
 I nawed and n ■ lares his will 
 
 To try "ii Peor's lofty brow once m< 
 
 The mystic spells so rain and weak before, 
 
 And see if God perchance would hear his prayer, 
 And let him curse the chosen people th 
 
 And dosl thou think, <) vain and impious man .' 
 That time or place can change the wondrous plan 
 Of Him at whose command primeval Nighl 
 On dusky pinions winged her rapid flighl ? — 
 When from the mass of dark chaotic str 
 This beaiii.',. us world firs! rose to life and light, 
 And all the countless orbs thai gem the sky 
 !ii to tread their viewless path on high,
 
 12 
 
 While angel voices loud the chorus swelled, 
 And seraph hymns Creation's morning hailed ? 
 Oh ! pause and think. By His Almighty power 
 Yon glorious orb on high, earth's lowliest flower, 
 Alike were formed. Each changing earthly scene 
 Controlled and planned by Him alone has been. 
 His searching eye can pierce the night of years, 
 His hand directs all human hopes and fears 
 To one great end. And dost thou think for thee 
 That He will alter now His high decree ? 
 Oh, uo ! Pause, then, — the impious thought is vain,- 
 Nor dare to tempt His righteous wrath again. 
 
 'Tis evening's hour. The parting orb of day 
 
 Now pours on earth his last and brightest ray, 
 
 Still fondly lingers ere he sinks to rest, 
 
 And lights with golden beams the burning west ; 
 
 While all the floating clouds that gem the sky 
 
 Reflect in rosy tints the crimson dye. 
 
 How bright and peaceful all around appears! 
 
 Fair eve in silence weeps her dewy tears, 
 
 As if she pensive mourned another day 
 
 For ever gone, for ever passed away, 
 
 And all its lights and shadows, hopes and fears, 
 
 Now numbered 'mid the dreams of other years, 
 
 To live no more, save when the mental eye 
 
 Unlocks the treasured stores of memory, 
 
 And bids departed hours of joy or pain 
 
 In bright delusion start to life again. 
 
 All Nature seems to rest in bright repose, 
 
 While softly still the palling sunbeam glows,
 
 L3 
 Gilding her Lovely scenes with melting light, 
 
 And lints of varied hue, so fair and bright, 
 Thai every heart must feel the moment's power, 
 And own thy magic charm, oh, loveliest honr! 
 There Jordan's distant waves roll clear and bright, 
 Each rippling billow glows with golden light, 
 And hill and vale — the torrent sweeping by — 
 The olive woods — the smiling earth and sky — 
 The cool aud fragrant breeze, which hears aloi 
 In mournful notes the bird of evening's song — 
 The Bpicy sweets that till the perfumed air, — 
 All, all combine to form a scene so fair, 
 So soft and calm, that e'en the aching breasi 
 Must feel its sorrows lulled awhile to rest, 
 And wakening hope a ray of comfort fling, 
 To gild the darkest spot on Memory's wing. 
 
 But see ! where, on Mourn Peor*s Lofty brow, 
 Iu purple hues the evening sunbeams glow, 
 A'jain, again, those sevenfold mystic fires 
 Not lift on high their bright and wavy spir< - 
 oh ! ean it he, though twice refused before, 
 That Moab's monarch dares again to pour 
 His impious prayer t>> Him whose sleepless L< 
 
 Had made the threatened curse a blessing prove. 
 And caused the cloud that seemed so dark with wrath 
 To shed hut gladness o'er his [srael b path ? 
 Tis true, alas : one. more the altars rise j 
 The flames ascending greet the darkening skies. 
 
 And now the rites are o'er — the offerings slain . 
 
 Hut Balaam dares not tempt the Lord again: 
 
 lie sees no power of earth or hell can stay
 
 14 
 
 The hand of Him whose word all must obey : 
 
 Therefore he seeks unhallowed aid no more 
 
 (Alas ! too often sought and felt before), 
 
 But lost in thoughts of mingled joy and pain, 
 
 He mutely gazes on the distant plain, 
 
 And ponders o'er the wondrous scenes of light, 
 
 The years to come which rose before his sight ; 
 
 The visioned dreams, in long and bright array, 
 
 That marked the course of one eventful day. 
 
 Above expands Judea's cloudless sky, 
 
 Beneath his feet her lovely valleys lie : 
 
 The Land of Promise, bathed in sunlight, seems 
 
 Some fairy paradise of poet's dreams ! 
 
 Yet Nature's fairest scenes he heeds not now, 
 
 But turns to where the desert spreads below ; 
 
 Those dreary plains, those boundless wastes of fear, 
 
 Where clouds ne'er shed one soft refreshing tear, 
 
 But burning sands, in viewless distance spread, 
 
 All faint and worn the weary pilgrims tread, 
 
 And o'er the dim horizon sadly gaze, 
 
 To mark at once the warning purple haze, 
 
 And fall to earth before the victor, Death, 
 
 Comes borne upon the flying Simoom's breath. 
 
 Woe, woe to him who mocks that herald light, 
 
 Or dares to watch the fell destroyer's flight ! 
 
 1 1 e ne'er shall see his distant home again, 
 
 But sink unwept upon the desert plain, 
 
 And leave his bones fast whitening in the gale, 
 
 To tell each passer-by the mournful talc ! 
 
 Still wrapt in thought the musing prophet stands, 
 Intently gazing o'er those dreary sands ;
 
 15 
 
 Pot there, i ' ar sees againsl th i evening sky, 
 In marshalled lines the tents of [srael lie. 
 Each varied tribe encamped aparl he a es, 
 Their bannered ensigns streaming on the breeze; 
 And in the midst — alone, on holy ground — 
 Beneath the arching cloud which floats around, 
 
 That sacred place, where Cod himself descends 
 
 To guard and guide the race His love befriends, 
 And hold mysterious converse, high and dread, 
 With him by whom their countless hosts are Led. 
 Thrice holy spot ! there still the towering cloud 
 By day extends its dark and awful shroud, 
 To guide o'er trackless wastes the chosen band, 
 Who seek with pilgrim-steps their promised land ; 
 And through the hours of darkness -lows with light, 
 A giant torch to break the -loom of night, 
 And bid the sons of Jacob peaceful Bleep, 
 For still their God a ceaseless watch will keep, 
 And guard from danger all who slumber tin 
 With quenchless love and yet unwearied cure. 
 
 Still deeply musing o'er their long array, 
 
 Now bathed in sunset's last declining ray, 
 
 The prophet stands upon the mountain's height. 
 
 His wild locks streaming on the breeze of night, 
 
 Till earthly thoughts and feelings all expire, 
 
 And o'er his soul, on wings of living fire, 
 
 The Spirit comes! Lo ! now in lengthened train 
 
 The forms of future years arise again ; 
 
 And visioned empires, stretched in long array, 
 
 Come dimly "towering on,"— then pass away: 
 
 While far beyond, the glorious latter days
 
 16 
 
 In scenes of wonder meet his raptured gaze ; 
 And one bright Star — one orb of heavenly light, 
 Sheds gathering radiance o'er his spirit's night, 
 Till thus, with kindling eye and heaving breast, 
 As if with streams of burning thought oppressed, 
 His hallowed words come o'er the monarch's ear, 
 In tones of peace he loved not then to hear ! 
 
 " How lovely 'neath that evening beam 
 Thy bannered lines, Israel, seem, 
 
 Far stretched in beauty o'er the desert plain ! 
 Like gardens by the river's side, 
 Like cedars near the sparkling tide, 
 
 Thy wandering homes repose in peace again ! 
 
 " Yes, Jacob shall indeed be blest ! — 
 By many a stream his seed shall rest, 
 
 And lift his ensign towards the boundless skies. 
 Before him every foe shall bow, 
 And mightier far than Agag now, 
 
 In glorious power his King shall soon arise. 
 
 ' ; From Egypt's land of fear and pain 
 The Lord hath brought him forth again, 
 
 And led him safely on with monarch hand : 
 His arm shall bring distress and woe 
 On every proud rebellious foe, 
 
 And sweep with terror all their vanquished land. 
 
 •• Now, like the couching lion's rest, 
 lie slumbers on the desert's breast;
 
 V 
 
 I Jut who sIimII rouse him from his fierce repose ? — 
 
 Blessed be he v. ho bleBsel h thee, 
 
 oh Jacob !-Hloubly cursed he, 
 Whodares to wish tor bhee, earth's thousand w< 
 
 Like lightning flashing through the darkened sky. 
 Bright gleams the monarch's fierce andwrathfal eyi i 
 He Bmites hi- hands in mingled grief and pain, 
 '•oli Prophet! da/n not mods me thus again! 
 J brtfught thee here in curse my deadly foe, 
 Ami thrice thy traitor lip- have Messed him now: 
 Eence! haste away! — 1 thought to raise thy name, 
 But lo! the Lord hath kept thee back from fame !' 
 
 •• Nay, monarch — blame me not," replies the seer,— 
 •• For told I not to those who brought me here, 
 Thai if thou Bhouldst thy richest boons bestow, 
 Ami give me all thai man ean need below, 
 I still must humbly bow before the Lord, — 
 Nor dare to go beyond His holy word? 
 And now no Loi re musl I n main, 
 
 But tuir to e ek my mountain home again ; 
 Then hear, oh king! and 1 will tell to th . 
 What in the hirer days shall surely be : 
 
 Ami how yon wandering pilgrims fearful AW. 
 shall cause thy people woe and dread again. 
 
 •• oh : i shall see Him — but not now; 
 
 Before Him all that live must how : — 
 For lo: a Star shall rise in Jacob's land, — 
 
 A Sceptre shall from I come. 
 
 To seal accursed Moab's doom, 
 And 'our dismay on Sheth's devoted hand.
 
 L8 
 
 •• Then Eclom shall no more be free ; 
 And Seir ! thy foes shall compass thee : 
 
 For Israel's sons must rise in power again : 
 And He who in that latter day 
 Shall hold the world beneath His sway, 
 
 From Jacob's land of peace shall rise to reign. 
 
 " But thou, oh haughty empire ! thou 
 The first among the nations now,, 
 
 Thine end shall be destruction, fear, and woe : 
 And though yon Kenite's lofty nest 
 Is fixed upon the mountain's crest, 
 
 And proudly towers above the plains below ; — 
 
 " Yet must she slowly waste away, 
 Until that dark and stormy day, 
 
 Where Asshur's band shall close her dark career, 
 And bow her haughty sons again 
 To wear the captive's galling chain, 
 
 And shed the exile's bitter, hopeless tear. 
 
 " Yea, ships shall come from Chittim's coast 
 
 To smite devoted Asshur's host ; 
 And Eber, too, shall then for ever fall. 
 
 But, when those fearful days arrive, 
 
 Alas! — alas! who can survive? — 
 Oh ! who shall meet Thy wrath, dread Lord of all 
 
 Ee pauses now — the prophet trance is o'er, — 
 The vision fled — to cone again no more ! 
 'Tisgone! — Like yonder sun's departing ray, 
 
 The heavenly beam has passed for aye away, —
 
 1!> 
 
 And never more shall that unearthly light 
 For him illume the Bhadowy future's night, 
 Or chase away his darkened spirit's gloom 
 With scenes of joy and glory yet to com''. 
 
 No Longer there the awe-struck group remain, 
 But turn to seek their distant homes again ; 
 And 'neath the rising star of evening's ray, 
 Silent and mournful now retrace their way. 
 
 - m o'er fair RIoab's hills and sparkling Btri ams 
 The silver crescent sheds her melting beams; 
 O'er the dim woods and Jordan's heaving bi 
 Brightly her trembling lustre seems to rest, 
 Ami bathes in watery light yon desert plan 
 Where now at last Night's thrilling silence rcL 
 Aii' e sleep, on noiseless pinions borne, 
 
 Descends to >hr<\ Bweel peace o'er those that mourn, 
 Am wlii!'' in dark oblivion's rest, 
 
 j form and aching breast. 
 
 Almost four thousand years have passed away 
 On win. >eed, Bince that eventful day, 
 
 And they who then IV Pisgah's lofty bro^ 
 
 Beheld the wandering tribes encamped below, 
 Long, long have met the fate of mortal birth, 
 And sleep forgotten in their kindred earth. 
 Idle passed away! Beyond the eastern wave 
 Tli- haughty monarch lills an unknown grave; 
 And he upon whose soul the Spirit's flame 
 So oft in streams of burning lustre came,
 
 20 
 
 'Mid scenes of bloodshed closed his strange career, 
 
 And found at last a soldier's gory bier. 
 
 But say, oh, Prophet ! did that heavenly light 
 
 Which rose in beauty o'er thy raptured sight, 
 
 And bursting through the veil of shadowy gloom 
 
 Which shrouds the varied scenes of years to come, 
 
 Displayed to thee, though dim and far away, 
 
 Heaven's glorious hour — earth's best and brightest day ; 
 
 Say, did its radiance, like the meteor light 
 
 That swiftly shoots across the brow of night, 
 
 But flash one moment o'er thy darkened mind, 
 
 Then pass away, nor leave a trace behind ? 
 
 Or did its cherished hope with gladdening power 
 
 Illume the darkness of thy parting hour, 
 
 And o'er the grave redeeming lustre shed, 
 
 To cheer ihe anguish of thy dying bed ? 
 
 ( )h, vain the thought ! To God, thy God alone, 
 
 The secret workings of thy heart are known. 
 
 We judge thee not : but in that awful hour, 
 
 When girt with might, the Lord of Life and Power 
 
 Again amid the world's fast gathering night 
 
 Shall burst on earth, a sun of glorious light ; 
 
 When all the countless tenants of the grave, 
 
 And they who sleep beneath the rolling wave. 
 
 Shall startled hear the piercing trumpet call, 
 
 And wake to meet the coming Lord of Al! ; 
 
 Oh! inayest thou then, with wrapt, unshrinking gaze 
 
 Behold at last the full meridian blaze 
 
 or thai fair Orb, that bright and morning Star 
 
 Whose first pale radiance glimmering from afar, 
 
 Came o'er thy spirit's visions dimly bright, 
 
 And shed on all around its dawning Light.
 
 ■_'l 
 
 Oh, mayest thou then, when [srael reach their home, 
 No more in Badness or reproach to roam, 
 Rejoice with them, and join the grateful Btrain, — 
 "Glory to Eim who died, but lives again ; 
 Glory i" Him who bought us with His blood, 
 The Lord of Life, the spotless Lamb of God! 
 Glory i" Him ! though mocked and Bcorned 
 Now, now He comes! to reign for evermore!" 
 
 E 
 A,/. L832 
 
 «c*
 
 22 
 
 SUNSET. 
 
 ID varied hues of light and shade, 
 The sun at last has died away ; 
 
 While silvery vapours linger round, 
 As if to shroud his parting ray. 
 
 How calm and pure that bright expanse ! 
 
 It seems to have no earthly bound ; 
 The shadowing clouds look dark and sad. 
 
 But clear and peaceful all beyond. 
 
 It looks as if no sound of strife 
 
 Could reach that calm and sunny sphere ; 
 A blest abode of peace and rest, 
 
 Untingcd by grief, unknown to fear. 
 
 And, oh ! 'tis like the spirit's rest, 
 As seen from this our world of care ; 
 
 Though earthly scenes are dark and sad. 
 Yet all is bright and peaceful there. 
 
 E. 
 
 Torqwuj, January 31, 1881.
 
 
 LINES. 
 
 J&^illJ^MI ! when on yonder moon I gaze, 
 §^|1| And watch how bright her watery n • 
 
 U" ib/ On yon dark hills Berenely rest, 
 And shine on sleeping ocean's b 
 I love to think her silver beam 
 Now falls on many a well-known scene, 
 And gilds with light as soft and 
 Th< land of all to me most de 
 
 And when 1 glance on high and 
 Perchance of those I love so well, 
 Some kindred eye is gazing now 
 On yon lair planet's glittering brows 
 
 The cl ring beam of silver Lighl 
 
 Thai trembles o'er the gloi m tit, 
 
 In softening accents seems to say, 
 The friend I think on thinks of i 
 
 E. 
 
 Torquay ', /•'< bruary 3, I
 
 ■n 
 
 LINES. 
 
 Y clays on earth as yet are few, 
 
 And bright has been their early morn; 
 Yet still my heart has learned to know 
 That every rose must bear a thorn. 
 
 Ah. yes ! no long-expected day, 
 
 No promised pleasure comes at last, 
 Without some cloud to dim its ray, 
 
 Some thought of sorrow near or past. 
 
 Tis ever thus, since that dark hour 
 When earth received her awful doom, 
 
 And felt the curse's withering power 
 
 Tinge all her loveliest scenes with gloom. 
 
 The hopes, the joys that mortals prove, 
 While through her fallen realms they roam, 
 
 Have some dark spot, ordained in love, 
 To make them feel earth's not their home. 
 
 But all shall not for ever sigh, 
 The bow of Hope still gilds the gloom ; 
 
 There is a light enshrined on high, 
 There is a life beyond the tomb. 
 
 Then be it mine to seek the way 
 
 That leads to that eternal morn ; 
 That dawning beam of endless day 
 
 AVhcrc blooms the rose without a thorn. 
 
 E. 
 
 7'"/ 7//////, December 22, 1830.
 
 
 LIXES. 
 
 EE yonder Star! that brilliant orb of light, 
 So calmly gliding through the dark blue sky. 
 Its Bofl and placid beams reflected clew- 
 On ocean's heaving breast. There, like the ray 
 Of hope firsl dawning on the darkened mind, 
 
 lie il shines, while all ai'uUlld is gloom. 
 
 I low calm, how fair the scene! All nature rest-. 
 And e'en the rocking billows seem to sleep 
 Beneath thi moon's mild ray, which sheds a line 
 Of quivering lighi upon their heaving breast, 
 As if bespangled with a thousand gems. 
 All, all is deep repose ! <>h! hard the heart 
 And cold the eye thai could unmoved gaze 
 On thai fair scene, nor feel one Boftening thought, 
 <>no moonlight -ham of gentle memory pour 
 Its melting radiance on the inmost soul, 
 Ami light again sweet days for ever flown. 
 
 E. 
 
 Torquay, December 24, l -
 
 2G 
 
 LIKES. 
 
 H ! come and view these scenes so fair, 
 These rocky heights, yon foaming main ; 
 
 Oh, come and breathe this balmy air, 
 
 Which sheds new life through every vein. 
 
 Oh, come ! we'll roam o'er hill and dale ; 
 
 We'll climb the rugged mountain's side, 
 And watch the distant sparkling sail 
 
 Gleam brightly o'er the heaving tide. 
 
 For well I know thine eye can gaze 
 With joy on ocean's boundless waste, 
 
 And loves to mark the evening rays 
 Shine calmly on his waveless breast. 
 
 And then by yonder sea-beat shore, 
 
 Where rocks and mountains frown around, 
 
 We'll hearken to the billows' roar, 
 A nd linger still to catch the sound. 
 
 That awful sound, that ceaseless roll, 
 Which since this world to being rose, 
 
 Has echoed on from pole to pole, 
 And will, till time itself shall close.
 
 27 
 
 Then runic, then c m ! I long with thee 
 To gaze on Nature's face once more; 
 
 For well may I desire to see 
 Those days again I've seen before. 
 
 But soon I trust the day will come, 
 When thou with us again shall dwell, 
 
 Though thine is now a distant hon 
 Par, far away ; till then, farewell. 
 
 Torquay, October 19, 1830. 
 
 -*g 
 
 ^ 
 
 B.
 
 28 
 
 THE AURORA BOREAL IS. 
 
 silver moon with trembling ray, 
 No twinkling stars arise, — 
 
 The last faint light has died away, 
 And darkness veils the skies. 
 
 But see ! a pallid lustre streams 
 
 O'er yonder heaving main ; 
 The waves are sparkling 'neath its beams, 
 
 And dance in light again. 
 
 And now with stronger, redder glow, 
 
 It rolls along the sky, 
 Till all the watery waste below 
 
 Reflects the crimson dye. 
 
 What can it be — that fitful light! 
 
 Now soft as evening's ray, — 
 Now like the storm-cloud, fiery bright, 
 
 Then fading all away? 
 
 It is the wondrous meteor-blaze, 
 The brilliant Northern light ; 
 
 Which breaks and gilds with friendly rays 
 Their long and dreary night.
 
 29 
 
 h shines upon their ice-built hoc 
 
 With soft and beamy glow ; 
 And led by it the traveller roams 
 
 ( >Yr boundless plains of snow. 
 
 How like lb that rejoicing light 
 To Hope's bright, cheerful ray, — 
 
 Which onward points, and turns the night 
 I if deepest gloom to day! 
 
 !•:. 
 
 Torquay, January 20, 1831. 
 
 Li 
 
 y 
 
 -• 

 
 30 
 
 LINES. 
 
 H yes ! 'tis sweet indeed to gaze 
 
 On Nature's face so fair, 
 And see the varied forms and charms 
 That Heaven has planted there. 
 That heart in truth is cold 
 
 That can view with careless eye 
 Her awful mountains piercing 
 
 The clear and deep blue sky ; 
 Their cloud-capped summits crowned 
 
 With everlasting snows, 
 While on their rugged sides 
 
 The sunbeams calm repose ; 
 And the roar of torrents mingling 
 
 With the moaning of the breeze, 
 As it sweeps around the mountain's brow, 
 
 Or sighs among the trees : 
 All these ex nit. and awe the mind, 
 
 And lift the thoughts on high, — 
 While scenes long past, and hopes to come, 
 
 Float past the mental eye. 
 
 And Nature has her softer scenes, 
 
 Almost as fair and bright, — 
 Where gentle slopes and wooded hills 
 
 Combine to please the sight;
 
 
 And all around's so calm and still. 
 
 So gentle and serene, 
 Thai mingled feelings wake a sigh 
 
 ( If pleasure and .if pain : 
 For wakened MJ :1k' though! 
 
 < If years Ion 
 While Eope looks on i<> scenes of Miss 
 
 In brighter worlds of day. 
 
 And e'en on these wild drsrn plains. 
 
 Win iv Nature's charms are n 
 E'< n here min< an always find 
 
 S» .]::<■ object bright or fair: 
 For though no I ig mountains ri 
 
 < >r wooded plains app 
 Vit even Nature's lonelim 
 
 lias something calm and dear ; 
 And as brig on sun 
 
 J u setting splendour glows, — 
 And as calmly on the hills 
 
 The evening stars repose, — 
 And yon fair moon is gliding on, 
 
 Eer soft pair i bright 
 
 A- if mi rieh< )•, Lovelier seem 
 shed her silvery light : 
 And oh ! the t! ought of happiest days 
 
 - nt on these lonely plains 
 Will make their me ry dear to me 
 
 While ever life remains. 
 
 E. 
 
 Elphin, 1830.
 
 32 
 
 THE SKYLARK. 
 
 EE ! starting from her grassy lair, 
 The Skylark springs aloft in air, 
 And wings on high her rapid flight 
 Towards yon blue realms of cloudless light, 
 Till, mounting still, she seems at last 
 A speck in ether's boundless waste ! 
 Say, — borne upon her rapid wing, 
 Shouldst thou not love on high to spring, 
 And far above this world of care 
 Roam free through crystal fields of air? 
 But ah ! her upward flight is past ; 
 From those bright realms descending fast 
 She quickly falls ; — her flight is o'er, — 
 She plants her foot on earth once more. 
 And thus, on Fancy's pinions borne, 
 Bright scenes of bliss the mind can form ; 
 And, raised above this world of woe, 
 Can dream of bliss unknown below ; 
 Till — short that slumber's peacefu] n 
 The spirit wakes to earth again. 
 
 E. 
 
 May 31, 1830.
 
 33 
 
 THE LAST. 
 
 HE las! : bhe last ! thai sad, thai thrilling 
 
 word, 
 How al ii- sound the Inmosl soul is stirred ; 
 jv, From it what depths of 'whelming sorrow- 
 flow, 
 The dirge of hope, the fullest note of wi i . 
 
 The last ! — fond Memory wings her rapid flight, 
 And swift revisits all her scenes of light: 
 Those parted hours, which e'en when tinged with pain, 
 she weeps to think she ne'er can Bee again. 
 
 For oh .' each well-beloved and native scene, 
 Where every spol has long familiar been, 
 Where man] a brighl and joyous hour has passed, 
 Ne'er looks so lovely as when gazed on— last. 
 
 And when with bursting heart we bid farewell 
 To those more dear than ever tongue can tell, 
 What 'whelming grief, what more than mortal pain, 
 To think on earth we meel no more again. 
 
 Vet iii the closing scene, when Death's dim eye 
 Sees Time and all its joys for ever fly, — 
 ( Hi ! some can smile o'er earthly perils pasi . 
 And deem thai hour the brightest, though the last. 
 
 E. 
 June, L832. 
 
 D
 
 34 
 
 ACROSTIC. 
 
 <REEN are thy vales, and softly swelling 
 hills, 
 Lovely thy glassy lakes and sparkling rills ; 
 And oh ! how fair thine ancient woods, 
 which stand 
 Still calmly scorning Time's relentless hand, 
 Still firm in stately pride! while clear below, 
 Like mirrored dreams that o'er the fancy glow, 
 < >n yonder water's pure and waveless breast, 
 Undimmed their forms in bright delusion rest! 
 Grey are thy crumbling walls — yet still to me, 
 lb line of my fathers ! dear thy scenes shall be. 
 
 March 9, 1833. 
 
 E. 
 
 ^fc.
 
 ...I 
 
 LINES. 
 
 r/t^r\ " ' wncn s " Ini ' '" ,|r familiar straiu 
 (v.k^/^r\ Pours ('"it the car its melting torn . 
 
 rjE^Kpfl How swiftly liiriimry Hi,-, Mirain 
 
 \£N 
 
 To scenes and hours for ever flown. 
 
 Yes : lite the roice of one beloved, 
 li thrills upon the inmosl heart, 
 
 Till slumbering thoughts Long, long tnnm> 
 Again to life and being start. 
 
 And as each lingering cadence dies 
 In sweetness on the spell-bound ear, 
 
 oh ! swift the cherished forms arise, 
 I If all to whom its tones were dear. 
 
 The loved— more loved than tongue can tell,- 
 The far away, — the cherished dead, — 
 
 Each sci He where Fancy loves to dwell, 
 Ami feed on hours for ever fledj 
 
 All, all return to bless our sight, 
 
 Though joy perchance be tinged with pain. 
 And o'er Life's billows, calm and bright, 
 
 The torch of Memory beams again.
 
 3G 
 
 Tis passing sweet, when Music swells 
 With power and magic all her own, 
 
 To feel some loved remembrance dwells 
 Enshrined in every breathing tone; 
 
 And think our image too may rest 
 
 Embalmed in such sweet numbers' flow, 
 
 And rise o'er some still faithful breast, 
 Undimmed by absence, joy, or woe. 
 
 Perchanee the wish may seem but vain, 
 Yet still to me the thought is dear, 
 
 From fond affection thus to claim 
 The meed of gentle Memory's tear. 
 
 Then oh ! not yet ye numbers cease ; 
 
 Breathe, breathe again that mournful air : 
 'Mid Nature's tears the bow of Peace 
 
 In mellowed light is beaming there ! 
 
 May 8, 1833.
 
 •M 
 
 PETER WEEPING. 
 
 (S^^O^S l-'.s. wcc]) — wci'jt mi : No marvel now 
 
 That fast those Bcorching teaxdrops rain 
 
 ^^H&$ ^''' Beem ""'• :IS ' '"'. v darkly flow, 
 
 To cool or calm thy burning brain. 
 
 The pangs which rend thy tortured heart. 
 
 Each deep convulsive sob may show, 
 And every bursting groan impart 
 
 The secret of seme 'whelming woe. 
 
 Alas ! alas ! at this sweet hour, 
 
 When all is starlit, calm, and clear, 
 
 Tun well mays! tlmu in secrel DOUT 
 The meed of many a heart-wrung tear ! 
 
 lint who thai 'neath the rning's beam 
 
 Beheld thy glance so proud and (tee, 
 
 ( >r heard thee vow to die for II im, 
 Who sunn will gladly die for thee, 
 
 < !ould think, ere falling eve, thai eye 
 Beneath a woman's scorn would quail, 
 
 And thrice those coward lips deny 
 The < Iracious Friend once Loved bo well?
 
 38 
 
 Yet, ah ! 'tis true ! — the deed is done ! 
 
 Betrayed by all most loved below, 
 The Lord of Life is left alone, 
 
 To drain the last sad cup of woe. 
 
 And thou — the first to own thy Lord, 
 To boast thy love of all the best, — 
 
 Hast now but deeper plunged the sword 
 That pierces through His bleeding breast. 
 
 And yet thy tears of anguish flow, 
 
 Thy soul seems wrung with grief untold ; 
 Oh ! what could wake that tide of woe, 
 
 < ~>r melt a heart so dead and cold ? 
 
 Did Heaven's fierce thunders burst thy trance, 
 
 < >r fear thy guilty bosom move ? 
 
 All. no! 'twas one mild, sorrowing glance, 
 One look of wronged but changeless love. 
 
 No storm can bid the torrent flow, 
 When bound in "Winter's icy chain ; 
 
 But let the sunbeam smile, and lo! 
 The waters leap to life again ! 
 
 An:l thus the bolt of wrath might hoiv, 
 But could not melt thy frozen heart ; 
 
 Yd. touched by Mercy's kindly glow, 
 How soon the gushing waters start ! 
 
 Then weep I lion on, but let thy tears 
 
 Be those of soft, repenting love : 
 And let this hour, through future years, 
 
 A beacon-star of warning prove.
 
 39 
 
 - shall thou rise from depths of W( 
 With humbled heart bul soaring eye, 
 
 To ran a glorious course below, 
 And win a Martyr's crown on high. 
 
 Such was thy Lol ! And oh! maj He 
 
 Whose one sofl glance could win thee homi . 
 
 Now look, us then He looked on thee, 
 And bid each wandering Bpiril con* . 
 
 Yes. may He touch each hardened heart, 
 
 And hud them on with " cords of love;" 
 To fill like thee their earthly lot, 
 And share Thy glorious lot abov ! 
 
 May 20, L833. 
 
 ]•;.
 
 40 
 
 LINES. 
 
 (S^-eJ 
 
 | HOUGH many a joy with sunny glow 
 May gild the lot of man below, 
 
 And bless his sojourn here, 
 So chequered is life's fleeting day, 
 That ere the smile has passed away 
 'Tis saddened by a tear. 
 
 And though on some the clouds of wrath, 
 Which scarce have dimmed another's path, 
 
 May pour their fiercest gloom, 
 Yet one the lot of all hath been, — 
 A dread of sorrow yet unseen, 
 
 A fear of woe to come. 
 
 AVhen dimly to the mental eye 
 The vista of futurity 
 
 In lengthened train appears, 
 Though bright the bow of Hope may beam, 
 Yet still its fairest visions seem 
 
 To shine on falling tears. 
 
 Then Fancy wakes her thrilling powers, 
 And summons up dark 'whelming hours, 
 
 Though still perchance afar ; 
 Disclosing scenes of joy and light 
 For ever plunged in dreary night, — 
 
 A night without a star.
 
 II 
 
 For there • I he forms so dear, 
 
 The treasured I ies thai bind us h 
 
 Departing one by one, 
 Till every friend 1ms passed away, 
 And we, in life's declining day, 
 
 Axe left to weep alone. 
 
 Sad, Bad the thought ! bul nol to all ; 
 Oh, some, when deep the shadows fall, 
 
 And all around is drear, 
 Can see the future's threatening form, 
 Y.'i calmly inert the coming storm 
 
 Without cue doubt or fear ! 
 
 For they can view the thorny way. 
 Still lit by Heaven's unfading ray, 
 
 Thai many a saint has trod ; 
 Then lift their hearts and hopes above, 
 To rest upon a Father's love, 
 
 And trust their all to God. 
 
 Thrice happy they ! for who could fear 
 The storms of life, if One be near 
 
 The raging waves to quell, 
 Or feel, though every friend were gone, 
 A wanderer on earth alone, 
 
 [f God be with him still? 
 
 Then, Lord, be Thou to every breast 
 
 A Star of hope, an Ark of rest, 
 While here on earth \u roam : 
 
 And, oh ! whate'er our lol may prove. 
 Still guard us with Thy changeless love, 
 
 And guide U8 safely home.
 
 42 
 
 Then though earth's meteor lights decay. 
 And joys are fading fast away, 
 
 Our hearts at peace shall he ; 
 And e'en the darkest path seem bright, 
 If, through the storm and shades of night, 
 
 It leads at last to Thee. 
 
 E. 
 
 June 26, 1888. 
 
 <?>', 
 
 vs^ii
 
 i:; 
 
 FAREWELL! 
 
 c ^&f - s it " (l1 strange, some simple word, 
 ffo That scarcely o'er the senses stole, 
 Yet Beems to touch a mystic chord, 
 Which vibrates through the inmost bou! 
 
 Y. s, tones that lightly met the car, 
 May t In-ill the heart with joy or pain ; 
 
 And Bope's gay smile or .Memory's tear, 
 A word may wake to life again. 
 
 Hut, oh! of all the sounds impressed, 
 With piercing power no tongue can tell, 
 
 There's none more deeply wrings the breasl 
 Than thai one touching word, Farewell ' 
 
 Farewell ! how of! those accents seem 
 To break affection's blessed sleep: 
 To start the spirit from her dream, 
 
 And wake the lonely heart to weep '. 
 
 For, oh ! that feeling is so drear, 
 
 When those we dearly love are gone; — 
 A moment past, and they were here, 
 
 Bui now we're left to weep alolR'.
 
 44 
 
 Yet, when the parting hour draws nigh. 
 
 When struggling griefs each bosom swell, 
 What heart, though bursting, ere could fly 
 
 The last embrace, the wept Farewell? 
 
 Oh, yes! if we must part again 
 
 From those on earth we hold most dear, 
 
 There's mournful pleasure 'mid the pain 
 Of fond affection's parting tear. 
 
 Yet still that word, so fraught with gloom, 
 Must pierce the heart with lightning power. 
 
 Until that blissful time be come 
 
 When all shall breathe " Farewell " no more. 
 
 February 20, 1834. 
 
 tikfb&L
 
 LINES. 
 
 If, no 1 thou slmli nol be forgot ; 
 W Thou still mayst claim fond Memor - 
 
 ■I ''' ; ""' 
 
 Though lowly was thine earthly Lot ; 
 
 And "h : how brief thy bright career! 
 
 Thine was a pure and shilling light, 
 
 Still brightening on to perfect day. 
 Which beamed upon our raptured sight 
 
 < >ne fleeting hour, then passed away. 
 
 Deep, holy Love, and dauntless faith, 
 
 Filled all thy heart with quickening power; 
 
 Peace, joy, and hope illumed thy path, 
 And glory crowned thy parting hour. 
 
 And though the grave now wraps thy rest, 
 
 Thy bright example still can shed 
 A holy influence pure and bright, 
 
 A fragrance breathing from the dead. 
 
 Yes, all who here retrace thy worth, 
 .Must heave a fervent, prayerful sigh, 
 
 Like ill"' to pass their time on earth, 
 And oh ! like thee to soar on high. 
 
 K.
 
 46 
 
 THE KEEPSAKE. 
 
 S o'er thy fairy page I gaze, 
 
 Thou treasured gift of one most dear, 
 Amid the scenes of other days, 
 
 A form beloved seems hovering near ; 
 And though 'tis silence all around, 
 
 A well-known voice methinks I hear ; 
 A long familiar, gentle sound, 
 Comes falling softlv o'er mine car. 
 
 For, oh ! whene'er thou meet'st mine eyes, 
 
 A thousand memories lost till now, 
 Touched from their slumber swift arise, 
 
 And wear again life's sunny glow. 
 Yes, thou canst strike the mystic chain 
 
 Which binds together kindred souls, 
 And seem to draw them close again, 
 
 Though wide between them ocean rolls. 
 
 Bui yet a dearer feeling still, 
 
 Thou fairy volume ! rests on thee,— 
 The thought that one beloved so well, 
 
 Though far away, remembers me. 
 Then welcome here; while friends tnusi part, 
 
 While sadly falls the farewell tear, 
 To every warm and faithful heart, 
 
 Affection's gift must still he dear. 
 
 March 31, 1837.
 
 17 
 
 .1 DREAM. 
 
 c^^cjv T thai still, calm, and awful h< 
 
 m 
 
 When Bleep \\ ith all her silent power, 
 Jr^lj Sheds sweet forgetftdness and rest 
 
 y^$4A&> {) L ' 1 ' lna "y :1 l1 ''"' ,,r aching breasl ; 
 When mimic Bcenes of joy or pain 
 Sweep Bwiftly o'er the Blnmbering brain, 
 [llumed by Fancy's \ i\ id beam, 
 I dreamt (alas! 'twas but a dream ! i 
 That o'er a path, unknown, untried, 
 I slowly wandered by thy side ; 
 Ami though for Long our footsteps trod 
 The mountain heath, the verdant sod, 
 Or wound along some mossy d 
 No weariness 1 Beemed to feel : 
 For as in many a long past day, 
 Thy converse swei Liled the way, 
 
 Till hill, and role, ami Btreamlet past, 
 We reached the mountain height at 
 There, bathed in evening's golden ray, 
 A lowly land before as lay ; 
 It seemed a calm and beauteous Bpot, 
 Where care and pain might be ■ 
 And worn out heart, or weary breast, 
 At last find happiness and rest.
 
 48 
 
 But, lo ! across our onward path 
 A river dashed in foaming wrath, 
 And rushed along with deafening roar 
 Between us and the lovely shore. 
 We paused : across the torrent flung, 
 A light and trembling structure hung. 
 Though based upon the solid shore, 
 It seemed to tremble at the roar 
 Of every billow tipped with snow, 
 Which rushed along the rocks below ! 
 I stood entranced, with awe-struck ear, 
 That music of the waves to hear, 
 Then gazed upon that watery grave — 
 The bridge which trembled o'er the wave,— 
 And eager still to reach that shore, 
 I could not, dare not, venture o'er ! 
 'Twas then that thy sweet voice of peace, 
 Assuring, bade my terrors cease, 
 And asked, " Would I now turn and flee, 
 Nor strive to stem the tide with thee ? " 
 With thee? Oh, what would I not dare, 
 Thy lot on earth in heaven to share ! 
 I paused no longer, — side by side, 
 We feared no more the foaming tide : 
 And though the waters raged around, 
 Till earth seemed trembling at the sound, 
 We passed that torrent hand in hand, 
 And safely readied that lovely land 
 Where Ave could gaze on dangers past, 
 And calm delights now reached at last. 
 
 Morn came, — that blissful dream was gone. 
 i woke once more, and all was flown ;
 
 r.l 
 
 Bui ofl thai fiction of the brain 
 I [as come to bless my Bight again, 
 And ofl ['ve thonghl how sweel 'twould 1"' 
 T<> wander through this world with thi 
 Nbl o'er its paths of false delight, 
 Where joy and mirth may greel the sight, 
 rel turn to Borrow in the grasp 
 Which strives their fading forms to clasp; 
 Bui o'er thai bright though narrow way. 
 Where joys are found which ne'er decay, 
 With thee to roam, and by thy side 
 To stem life's dari and stormy tide; 
 Together every ill to bear, 
 Together joy and Borrow share, 
 And reach at eve that peaceful shi 
 Where al] shad toil and weep no more. 
 
 E. 
 
 May 23, 1834. 

 
 50 
 
 THE LILIES OF THE FIELD. 
 
 (^5»E lilies of the field, ye fairest flowers 
 
 ™?€ Of all which bloomed of old in Eden's bowers, 
 yjl And since thence exiled have this world 
 ^ arrayed 
 With beauties time hath varied, ne'er decayed ; 
 To ye the pensive heart still turns again, 
 And seeks for wisdom never sought in vain. 
 For though we view with ever fresh delight 
 The rose's blushing hue or tinted white, 
 Each cultured gem of Flora's wide domains; 
 Or, wandering far, behold, where Nature reigns, 
 Those wilder sweets which o'er creation wave, 
 And deck alike man's cradle and his grave; — 
 Yet still on thee, thou fair and graceful flower, 
 There seems to rest a deeper, holier power, — 
 A charm which long survives thy transient bloom, 
 And sheds its lustre o'er thine early tomb : 
 For who, fair queen, can view thy peerless form 
 Glance in the sunshine, bend beneath the storm, 
 Or (urn on high those purple streaks which glow 
 Upon thy bosom else of purest snow, — 
 Nor think of Bim, the incarnate Son of God. 
 Who, while on earth His pilgrim footsteps trod, 
 Chose thee from all earth's glorious things and fair, 
 For man a lesson fraught with love to bear,
 
 51 
 
 And bade the faithli ; of Ada 
 
 A Fa! her's changeless Love portraye 1 le 
 
 Oh! on thv form what human eye can eraze, 
 
 .\'<t turn IV thee to long-deparled days, 
 
 To Judah's once-loved land, so trebly bli - . 
 Where throned on earth the Almighty seemed to 
 Where all was peace and joy ? 1I"\\ changed now: 
 The brand of wrath imprinted on her brow, — 
 Eer altars reft,— her glory passed away, — 
 5 lovely si ill 'mid ruin and decay. 
 
 Bui oh! sweet land, thine own majestic flower 
 Calls not i" mind alone thy days of power, 
 When, 'mid the Temple's gorgeous treasures fouE 
 In imaged wreaths the lily i \\ ined around ; 
 i Jut when her form of beauty towers on hi 
 
 I g years depart ; and bright on Fancy's 
 
 Far scenes revive : — beneath thy cloudless ski • 
 
 She sees in thought the mountain's brow arise, — 
 
 The listening group who silent stand around 
 
 one Godlike Form, and long to catch each sound 
 
 Which falls from lips whose glowing accents i 
 
 To pierce the -"uis which hear with heavenly beam, 
 
 And o'er each melting heart in mercy pour 
 
 Such words of love as earth i .ml before. 
 
 Hark ! how He bids all Nature « isdon 
 
 - Behold," saith He, "the lilies of the field; 
 
 No life dl' anxious thought or pride is theirs, 
 
 They toil not, spin aot, feel no earth-born 
 
 Yet I>a\ id's Bon, in all his pomp of pow 
 
 Was not arrayed Like yonder simple How
 
 i)l 
 
 And oh ! if (Joel so clothes the flowers which bloom 
 In youth to-day — to-morrow find a tomb, — 
 Shall He not much more all your sorrows share, 
 Your wants supply, — for you all good prepare, 
 Ye faithless hearts, who cannot trust His care?" 
 
 Such was the lesson, fraught with holy power, 
 Breathed forth on thee ! — and since that long past hour. 
 Such are the words which o'er thy snowy leaves 
 In threads of light the hand of Fancy weaves. 
 Oh ! that each heart which marks thy form so fair, 
 Could rise in faith to Him who placed thee there ; 
 And learn from thee, though all be dark and drear, 
 T<> trust His changeless love and ceaseless care. 
 
 E. 
 
 August 25, 1834. 
 
 *&&fe*r
 
 53 
 
 THE STARS. 
 
 r^'^'A 1 1 ■ ,,; "> i ( lir . tluit like a gem of light, 
 ~— ill ' S(r !milt ' ier world roll slowly on ? 
 
 i9'/ oh ! can it be thai yon faini sparkling orb 
 Is some vasl globe like this, some circling 
 sphere, 
 
 Prom chaos railed to be tin' glad abo 
 Of living, breathing millions ? framed perchance 
 With all thai mosi delights or thrills the hearl 
 In Nature's wonders \ mountain heights sublime, 
 The waving forest, and the rushing stream ; 
 Each scene of calm repose or awful power, 
 Which In ri enchants the eye, or lifts the bou! 
 To commune \\ ith Eternity, and feel 
 The nothingness of man compared to II im 
 Who framed them all? Oh, wondrous thought, to feel 
 Y<m trembling spark upon the midnighi sky — 
 Vnii star contains the Bame. Nor it alone, 
 For In! fasi starting from the dark blue depths 
 t )f ether's boundless Rea, unnumbered "His 
 N-iu brightly cluster o'er the brow of Night, 
 Ami gem her dark expanse with drops of gold, — 
 Worlds rise on worlds. What human eye can scan, 
 What finite mind can the wondrous whole ? 
 
 Yri there they shine, — and countless as the tears 
 Which Evening weeps upon the glistening plain.
 
 54 
 
 Unceasing tread their viewless paths on high, 
 
 And seem to bid the vainly searching mind, 
 
 "Which strives to reach their height, still higher rise, 
 
 And view the Wondrous Hand which formed them all. 
 
 Ye countless orbs ! ye sparkling isles of light ! 
 Perchance the glad abodes of peace and rest, 
 Where blessed spirits glide o'er crystal paths, 
 And time their harps to ceaseless songs of praise ; 
 
 < )r else in sweet repose await the hour 
 
 When they, returned to earth, shall join once more 
 
 The forms wherein they tabernacled here — 
 
 The fleshly forms so dear to mortal eye. 
 
 Then purified from earth and all its stains, 
 
 Then raised again in heavenly lustre fair, 
 
 To meet their coming Lord: — oh, who can gaze 
 
 < )n ye, bright watchers of the silent night, 
 Nor feel the spark of Heaven's immortal fire 
 Which sleeps within him, kindle at your beam, 
 And bear his glowing spirit far away 
 
 From earth-born scenes, to roam through fields of space, 
 And soar from world to world — till, 'wildered, lost 
 Amid the wondrous works of Nature's God, 
 1 1 e turns again to earth, and feels at once 
 A worm, — and yet, a never-dying soul. 
 
 And when the .sated eye descends once more 
 To rest upon the starlit plains of earth, 
 Oh, fair the scene which meets that raptured gaze ; 
 So still and calm the slumbering world appears, 
 So fraught with breathing beauty. All is peace: 
 No sound of life now breaks the deep repose, 
 Xo gentle breeze with whispering murmur stirs
 
 .p.) 
 
 i foliage, ning \\ ith the dews of night. 
 
 And earth and sky alike are hushed t > res! ; 
 While mirrored on the water's waveless bri 
 Like dreams of fancy bright, but fading still, 
 The gemlil - in mimic beauty shine. 
 
 It is mi hour to calm the troubled heart, 
 To shed its own deep stillm ss o'er the soul, 
 And fill the breasi with Nature's deep repos 
 For all Looks fair beneath the dim, sofl Ligl , 
 "Which o'er the world in mellowed lustre fal 
 From yonder countless Lamps of living fire. 
 
 F Love your gentle Light, ye mystic orbs; 
 It clothes with tenfold beauty every charm, 
 Yet casts in shade each spot whic Led by day 
 
 To mar the prospect, or deface the Bcene. 
 II. i\v Like thai Light the beam which memory sheds 
 On those dear forms of Life— once glad and gay, 
 And Loved, perchance, too fondly Loved while here, — 
 \mw sleeping low to wake on earth uo more ! 
 Their sun hath set, their day is quenched in nig] 
 I'.in oh ! thai starlight radiance still ilium a 
 Their earthly course with melancholy beam, 
 And Lights again their chequered path belowj 
 Clothes every Long-loved grace with richer hue. 
 O'er every beauty flings a deeper charm, 
 
 But lolldly Casts Oblivion's shadowy veil 
 
 O'er each Lighi sp< t, which still, alas! must stain 
 
 Earth's besl and dearest. All which once Bhe blamt d, 
 
 Affection now forgets. Her lo deep, 
 
 Lovely in life, in death more lovely -till. 
 
 E. 
 
 October 17, 183 l.
 
 56 
 
 SUNSET IN AUTUMN. 
 
 IS sweet to me, at evening's hour, 
 To gaze upon the glowing west, 
 
 And watch the Autumn sun once more 
 In peaceful glory sink to rest: 
 
 F< >r though no more his golden beams 
 Illume young Summer's laughing bowers, 
 
 As bright his parting lustre streams 
 On yellow leaves and fading flowers. 
 
 Yes, glorious orb ! 'mid death and gloom, 
 AVhile Nature's worn and weary frame 
 
 Seems sinking to her yearly tomb, 
 Thou art unchanging and the same. 
 
 Thousands of years have passed away, 
 Vet, Lord of time, thou beamest on, 
 
 Bright as when first thy dawning ray 
 On young Creation's morning shone. 
 
 And now thy radiance si reams once more 
 On yonder woods all sere and brown, 
 
 Which Autumn's hand hath mantled o'er, 
 With mournful beauty all her own.
 
 57 
 
 It glances on the mountain's cr< 
 And shines apon the fading lea> 
 
 Falls mi the water's sparlding breast, 
 And gilds each ripple as it heai 
 
 And yet, 'tis sad to Bee thai beam 
 Smile on the wan and pallid flowers, 
 
 And gild again, with transient gleam, 
 The wreck of Summer's joyous hours. 
 
 The falling leaves bestrew my path. 
 
 The earth her garb of mourning wear- ; 
 And e'en the breeze's whispering breath 
 
 A tone Of gentle sadness hears. 
 
 [t is a melancholy hour ; — 
 ()li ! who on such an Autumn day 
 
 Bui deeply feels tl ppressive power 
 
 Of Nature's touching, calm decay? 
 
 Silent and still she sinks to l 
 
 Majestic in her hour of woe ; 
 And soon upon her dreary breasl 
 
 Will tall the shroud of wintry snow. 
 
 Bui all unmoved, though refi and lorn, 
 
 She stands to meet her yearly doom ; 
 And calmly waits, till Spring's bright morn 
 Shall bursi upon her icy tomb. 
 
 For see : amid the wreck of all 
 
 Which decked awhile her glorious fame, 
 Brightly the changeless sunbeams full, 
 
 A pledge that she shall rise a-;ain.
 
 OS 
 
 Yes, summer suns again shall shine, 
 
 And verdant woods and laughing flowers 
 
 Shall deck thy form, earth! and twine 
 Their wreaths around thy leafless bowers. 
 
 But who that saw thee fade, may see 
 Thy bright return of beauty then ? 
 
 It recks not, if they die like thee, 
 To bloom in purer life again. 
 
 October 27, 1834. 
 
 E.
 
 
 TO THE REDBREAST. 
 
 IX<; on, sweet bird ! bhy plaintive tone 
 Falls sweei ye\ mournful o'er the 
 
 For now, alas ! thy notes alone 
 Are heard to wail the dying year. 
 
 Thai year is tri mbling on the vi 
 Of Long pasl Time's onfathomed deep, 
 
 With thy sad voice to sonnd her dir 
 While Binking to her Lasl long sleep. 
 
 She must away!— her honr is con 
 She only waits her midnighl knell ; 
 
 And then departs tO seek the tomb 
 Where ages past in darkness dwell. 
 
 And though, save thine, each voice i- 
 Whieh swelled for her when glad and 
 
 Still, faithful bird, thou warbles! on, 
 To mourn yei cheer her dying day. 
 
 As sweet as then thy wild QOtes foil, 
 Though all around is sad and drear, 
 
 And Bwiftly Natu dowy pall 
 
 [s closing round another year.
 
 60 
 
 Another year, another year! 
 
 Canst thou, departed one, be fled ? 
 And is there left but memory's tear 
 
 For thee, thy hopes, thy fears, thy dread ? 
 
 Alas ! no more ; thy bygone days 
 
 No mortal eye again can see : 
 And lo ! the sun's departing rays 
 
 Now brightly beam their last for thee. 
 
 Yet mayst thou linger, till the gloom 
 Of midnight tells thy day is done : 
 
 Then torchlight stars shall light thee home; 
 Thou must depart! thy race is run. 
 
 Farewell, thou mother year ; thy doom 
 Is nearly sealed : yet mayst thou see 
 
 Thy daughter rising from thy tomb, 
 To dawn, to pass, to die like thee ! 
 
 Her shadowy form now greets our sight, 
 But none her onward course can see ; 
 
 No eve, save One, can pierce the night 
 Which mantles dark futurity. 
 
 But oh ! whate'er our span may prove, 
 
 hi that dim future yet afar, 
 May Heaven's unfading lamp of love 
 
 Shine o'er us as our guiding star. 
 
 Yes; may each ever-circling year 
 Find us, as swift it passes o'er, 
 
 More meet for Ilia! celestial sphere, 
 Where Time itself shall be no more. 
 
 December 31, 1834. 
 
 E.
 
 '•■1 
 
 /'. J. 
 
 [HOU arl gone ai lasl to thy peaceful rest, 
 In the noon of life thou hast met tli\ 
 doom, 
 And the fire which glowed iu thy saintly 
 breast. 
 Is quenched in the night of the lonely tomb. 
 
 Thou arl gone ; but thou canst not Boqp depart 
 From ih'' breasts of those who hare Loved thee here 
 
 They \\ ill cherish thee deep in their inmost heart, 
 And shed for thee memory's fondest tear. 
 
 For thine was a lofty and noble mind, 
 That Boared far, far o'er the things of earth, 
 
 Each feeling chastened, each thought refined, 
 And pure as the heart which gave them birth. 
 
 And oh! who can forget the kindly glow, 
 The warmth of affection which filled that heart ; 
 
 The love that extended to all below, 
 
 Vrt centred on Eim whose servant thou wert.
 
 02 
 
 For thine was that gentle and lovely mind, 
 That could feel for others in joy or woe ; 
 
 That longed in each bosom some grace to find, 
 Yet could weep o'er the faults of the bitterest foe. 
 
 And thou wert a pastor in deed and word, 
 
 Simple, devoted, fearless, and free ; 
 All thine energies bent to serve thy Lord, 
 
 And live unto Him who had died for thee. 
 
 And thine every thought an unearthly power, 
 An impress of holiness, seemed to bear ; — 
 
 Oh ! none could behold thee for one short hour, 
 Nor feel that a man of God was there. 
 
 But thy mind was cast in a giant mould, 
 And it soared — perchance with too wild a flight ; 
 
 Then foes gathered round thee, friends grew cold, 
 
 And the star of thy brightness was quenched in night. 
 
 Ami calumny winged her most venomed dart, 
 Till those forsook who m< turn for thee now ; 
 
 But though dauntless and firm was that noble heart, 
 Yet they broke the spirit they could not bow. 
 
 Yes; days of sorrow and hours of gloom 
 Soon traced with farrows thai Lordly brow; 
 
 Ami the locks once dark as (lie raven's plume 
 Were more than tinged with untimely snow. 
 
 l!ut now it is over, thy race is run, 
 
 111 thine OWD loved land Ihoii hast, sunk to rest; 
 Thy work is finished — thy warfare done, — 
 
 And thou ail in peace on thy Saviour's breast.
 
 
 Thou hasl lived the life of a Baint on earth ; 
 
 Thon hasl died the death of the true and bravi 
 Lei memory cherish thy matchless worth, 
 
 And enmity Bleep in thine early grave. 
 
 Farewell .' thou hasl lefl a world of vro . 
 
 Thou arl far from the reach of Bin and cares 
 Thy much-loved Lord is thy portion now, — 
 
 < Hi, who would nol pray such lol i" share 
 
 - 
 
 January, 1835. 
 
 0* 
 
 E.
 
 61 
 
 LINES 
 
 TO A. M. L. 
 
 ND now accept once more from me, 
 This careless work of cheerful hours, 
 
 The wreath which I have twined for thee, 
 Of youth's green leaves and spring-time 
 flowers. 
 
 And though its sweets may prove but few. 
 Wilt thou not look with gentle eye 
 
 On these wild flowers of varied hue, 
 These opening buds of poesy ? 
 
 1 Tcnow thou wilt, for thou hast seen 
 The fairest spring to life for thee, 
 
 And long thy kindly glance hath been 
 The meed of praise most dear to me. 
 
 Then take the gift, — at least its flowers, 
 In part the fruit of days gone by, 
 
 May wake for thee the thought of hours 
 Still bright to Memory's pensive eye 
 
 And if from dreams to poets dear, 
 Too oft fair truth neglected lli^s, 
 
 Oh ! still believe, recorded here 
 
 Full many a heart-warm feeling lies.
 
 65 
 
 Ami when thy gaze may chance to dwell 
 On these light Leaves, these youthful Btraii 
 
 oh. think of one who loves thee well, 
 And will, while ever lite remains. 
 
 ; thongh again we soon mnsi pari. 
 Yd still, what e'er our lot may be,— 
 Remember, one unchanging heart, 
 
 Through shade ami sunshine, -lows for thee. 
 
 E. 
 August 6, L835.
 
 GG 
 
 LINES. 
 
 H, Nature ! beautiful to me art thou : 
 A well-spring of still fresh and fadeless joy 
 And not alone when thy majestic scenes 
 In stately pride, or softer beauty fair, 
 Almost oppress the heart which feels their power, 
 With rapture too intense, yet tinged with awe ; 
 But e'en as here, where thy enchanter's hand 
 Has clothed in simple garb the lowly scene ; 
 Without one spot to charm the gazing eye, 
 Which seeks for forms of beauty soft or stern. — 
 Yea ; e'en without mine own loved, lonely sea, 
 There seems to rest a calm and sunlit hue, 
 An air of blest repose, — a tint which tells 
 No mortal hand hath blent its heaven-born dyes : 
 And oh ! 'tis fair to view yon boundless skies, 
 With all their mingling thoughts of love and peace; 
 Those fertile fields, witli waving bounties crowned. 
 And rich in August's golden tint of joy; 
 The sombre woods, mature in beauty now, 
 Dark lustrous green ! — But ah! too soon I see, 
 Amid their verdant mass, one paly line, 
 One yellow leaf; which, like that silver thread, 
 The first grey hair on matron beauty's brow, 
 Proclaims, alas! that youth's bright Spring is flown.
 
 Ii tells of Autumn hours and near decay : 
 
 Bui Summer Lingers still with parting smile, 
 
 A.nd all looks bright and fair! Oh, needs there more, 
 
 To fill with gushing pleasure, deep and pure. 
 
 Each hear! which still can r magic power 
 
 Of earthly Bcenes to soothe, subdue, or che 
 
 E. 
 Jfilden, August 29, 1835. 
 
 -**%&$&■
 
 68 
 
 THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD AT SEA. 
 
 [IS the evening hour, and all ocean seems 
 To bask in the glorious sunset beams, — 
 That light which glows in the binning 
 west, 
 
 And falls on the waters' sparkling breast, 
 Tinging the waves with the gorgeous dyes 
 And thousand hues of the summer skies. 
 Soft comes the breeze, and the mighty deep 
 Is sunk iu the calm of a giant's sleep, 
 Smiling as if beneath that wave 
 Thousands had found not a stormy grave, 
 Or the billows' roar and the tempest's moan, 
 Blent with the seaman's dying groan, 
 As he sank in the treacherous Willow's swell, 
 With the surge his tomb, and the blast his knell. 
 .Now all is peace, and the waters seem 
 Gentle and calm as an infant's dream ; 
 Sleeping awhile is their awful power, — 
 Oh ! fearful and fierce its waking hour ! 
 
 But sec ! on the waste of waves, alone, 
 One stately bark goes gallantly on. 
 Spreading her wings of untainted snow, 
 To catch the breeze and the sunset glow ;
 
 69 
 
 And towering <>n high in her conscious pride, 
 As she walks the queen of the boundless tide. 
 Bui though there is joy in the Laughing sky. 
 Peace on the waters, and smiles on high ; 
 And though the dark forms of gathering men, 
 Clustering the snow-white deck are Been, 
 Yet the mingling glories of sea and sky 
 Semi in ,i i.i n-iad one gazing eye, 
 
 For a shade of Unwonted sadness now 
 
 I larkens each sea-heat and manly brow, 
 And a feeling of awe-stricken sorrow r< - 
 Like a weigh! on the spring of those joyous br< 
 No marvel. Bach sprang to his station tb 
 As the well-known signal struck on his ear ; — 
 But not to contend with the raging blast, 
 And cling for life to the bending masl ; 
 And not in the death-strife to meet the toe, — 
 
 For then would each bOBOm with ardour glow, 
 But to give to thai dark and shoreless \' 
 The cold remains of the young and brave ; 
 To Lay his form Cor its last Long Bleep, 
 "M id the coral caves of the boundless deep. 
 
 Oh, sad was his fate! glad, bright, and gay, 
 lie hounded alone- life's onward way, 
 With a lion's heart in its manly glow, 
 Yet a woman's love in its BOfter flow ; 
 Beloved by all : scarce a grief or fear 
 Had dimmed the sun of his brief career : 
 Yet now, alas! cut, down like a flower, 
 Laid low in the pride of his morning hour: 
 Not e'en in the struggle for \\l'^ and fame, 
 To leave behind a death-hallowed name.
 
 70 
 
 But conquered by fever's burning strife, 
 
 He has early fled from the war of life ; 
 
 And now the beloved of a distant home 
 
 Must find a tomb 'mid the ocean's foam, 
 
 With none, save the spray or the cloud, to weep 
 
 O'er the stormy grave where his ashes sleep. 
 
 But hark ! how the peaceful sounds of prayer 
 
 Solemnly rise on the evening air ! 
 
 Telling that yet from her farthest bed 
 
 The sea must give up her uncounted dead ; 
 
 F< >r though no pastor is here to breathe 
 
 The words of peace by the bed of death, 
 
 Or in prayer o'er the senseless corse to bow, 
 
 Y^et that last sad task is accomplished now 
 
 By the grey-haired chief of that gallant band, 
 
 While mute and uncovered around him stand 
 
 The dauntless spirits he oft had led 
 
 < )'er the blood-stained deck, and the battle's dead ; 
 
 And the hero's corse before him lies, 
 
 Wrapped in its shroud of no mournful dyes ; 
 
 That pall which the brave may best become. 
 
 The meteor flag of his island home. 
 
 And now on the car distinctly fall 
 
 Those mournful words, alas ! known to all, 
 
 When that harrowing sound of woe and fear, 
 
 The rattling earth on the hollow bier, 
 
 Blends with the prayer of sorrowing love, — 
 
 Of grief below, but of hope above. 
 
 Tin nigh from home and from country far away, 
 
 Now comes that voice from the lonely sea, — 
 
 " Thou art gone ; but in joy fid hope to sleep, 
 
 We give thy form to the lonely dee])."'
 
 71 
 
 Hark! a Budden plunge and a Btartling Bound! 
 Then silence and si illness all around. 
 
 past : he Bleeps 'neatb the boundless wave, — 
 The sailor's home, and the sailor's grave! 
 
 They have looked their last, and the hark Bwee] 
 E'en the ripple which curled o'er his rest is £<>uc : 
 And the gentle swell of the murmuring: sin 
 Is the lost and cherished one's only dirg 
 
 E. 
 October 29, 1835.
 
 72 
 
 CHRISTMAS EVE. 
 
 IS Christmas Eve ! Each cottage hearth 
 
 Now glows with cheerful light, 
 And laughter loud, and sounds of mirth, 
 Merrily ring to-night ; 
 Alike from hut and hall the voice 
 
 Of care and woe departs, 
 And round the cheering blaze rejoice 
 Right happy hearts. 
 
 For though a wintry veil around 
 
 The dying year is cast, 
 And frost in silent chains hath bound 
 
 The streamlet and the blast, 
 Yet smiles as bright as Summer wore, 
 
 Each sunlit brow adorn, 
 And young hearts leap to greet once more 
 The Christmas morn. 
 
 For now it is that loved ones come, 
 
 Their native hearth to cheer, 
 And wanderers seek the distant home, 
 
 To memory still most dear :
 
 78 
 
 Yrs, where their childish voice's sound 
 
 Rang shrill in former days, 
 Long-severed kindred meet around 
 The home-bright blaze. 
 
 Bui thou art all alone, with nought 
 
 Thy lonely lot to cheer, 
 Save silent communings of thought, 
 
 With objects high and dear ; 
 And when from holier themes they fly 
 
 To those who loved may be, 
 I ;<• member, many a ]»rayer and Bigh 
 Are breathed for thee. 
 
 And though each heart rejoices now. 
 
 And every tone is gay, 
 li easts a shade to think that thou 
 
 Art lonely and away ; 
 But when another circling year 
 
 Again Bees Christinas come, 
 ( Yrs, h»ng ere that !) mayeBt thou be I 
 To bless our home. 
 
 E. 
 
 December 24, 1835.
 
 74 
 
 LIKES. 
 
 tffi T is the birth-morn of another year, 
 
 Which from her mother's ashes bounding forth, 
 
 "With silent footsteps rises on the world, 
 Like her to dawn, like her to pass away. 
 Hail ! child of Time ! what thousand eyes now turn 
 To mark with anxious gaze thy being's morn, 
 And strive to scan thine unrevealed career ! 
 But o'er thy future hours a veil is cast, — 
 To some of laughing hues both bright and gay, 
 Thick strewn with hope's glad forms of coming joy ; 
 To others dark and sad, for many a heart 
 Still feels the clouds of yon departed year 
 O'ercast her daughter's untried scenes with gloom. 
 And clothe the visioned Future's dreamy forms 
 With shades of sorrow past. Yet hail to thee ! 
 I look with hope upon thy coming hours, 
 And trust that mercies, boundless as the past, 
 May still encompass round my onward way. 
 
 'Tis Winter's noon of darkness. Nature sleeps 
 In dreariness and death, awaiting still 
 The spring-time sunshine to dispel her gloom, 
 And clothe again with beauty all her scenes. 
 f will go forth and breathe the chilling air,
 
 ,.> 
 
 i tread the leaf-strewn paths, will mi 
 On all ilif mingling d b of the pa 
 
 Ami prospects of the future. Though to me 
 The stream of life has smoothly flowed, 
 
 Yri still its placid surface can reflecl 
 The clouds as well as sunlighi of the sis 
 And i;i the parted year, like all I 
 'Mid happiest hours, to Memory precious still, 
 Some shadows rest, — some r< ed clouds, 
 
 That dimmed awhile e'en blessings held mosl dear ; 
 And much loved converse, which, though past, can shed 
 Remembered sweetness o'er mine inmost soul, 
 Ami will, I trust, rejoice my heart again, 
 Oft, oft, and soon. Y<-t passing clouds there were 
 Of disappointed hopes, bright visions flown, 
 And dreams dispelled, i lush, hush! vain thoughts! 
 I ! me back, ye restless wanderings of the mind, 
 Nor e'en with lightest pinion touch to life 
 Those scarcely slumbering hopes and wishes vain 
 1 fain would lull to rest. Oh, rather think 
 ( ►fall the thousand blessings undeserved, 
 That girdle round my onward path of life 
 With countless mercie . v each uew-born day. 
 And never-failing still ! — Their ceaseless voice 
 Should silence every whispered murmur's Bound, 
 Ami till with grateful love thai thankless heart. 
 Which knows noi what is Lest ! 
 
 Farewell thou Pa 
 For thee, <> Future ! all alike musl feel 
 How dim the eye that strives to pierce thy gloom, 
 How weak the power thai fain would Bhape thy com 
 And bow in consciousness another Hand,
 
 76 
 
 A mightier Arm, must lead them on their way, 
 And cast the lot they take but cannot choose. 
 
 Oh ! merciful it is, that o'er that lot 
 A shadow rests no mortal eye can pierce, 
 No light can chase away. That blessed cloud 
 Is Hope's eternal dwelling ! There she rests, 
 Enthroned upon the Future's misty form, 
 And lifts on high her torch, which oft can turn 
 Its darkness into clear though distant day. 
 
 And unto thee, for whom this wreath was twined, 
 
 To greet the morning of the new-born year, 
 
 < )h, let it now convey the wish and prayer, 
 
 That Heaven's best blessings, earth's most holy joys. 
 
 And mercies ever new, may gild thy lot, 
 
 Shed gathering lustre o'er thine onward way, 
 
 And crown each year which yet shall rise for thee. 
 
 E. 
 January 1, 1836. 
 
 ^y^s^
 
 THEKLA'S SONG. 
 
 I From the German of Schiller.) 
 
 ^"gs^V;, II \\ clouds gather last, the oak woods roar, 
 The damsel paces the green of the shore ; 
 The billows arc breaking with might, with 
 
 And she ponrs forth her voice on the darksome night. 
 
 Her soul with Borrow is moved: — 
 "The hear! is dead, and the world is drear, 
 There Is nothing remains to live for here ; 
 Take home thy little one, Holiest, now, 
 I have tasted the sweetesi of things below, 
 
 For I have both lived and Loved !" 
 
 B. 
 
 February LO, L886.
 
 78 
 
 LINES. 
 
 AM here in thine own old home again, • 
 And with mingled feelings of joy and pain 
 I gaze once more on each time-worn tree, 
 Each spot which last I beheld with thee. 
 They are all unaltered and lovely still ; 
 In wood and valley, on lake and hill, 
 The forms and colourings meet my gaze 
 Thou wert wont to love in former days : 
 And all is unchanged we used to see, 
 Save where, on many a time-worn tree, 
 The ivy has flung its unfading wreath, 
 To hide the wreck Time has wrought beneath : 
 Or where, like all perishing things of earth, 
 Laid low in the dust which first gave it birth, 
 Some lord of the forest's majestic form 
 Has bowed at last to the wintry storm ; 
 Though many a blast it had braved before, 
 "i'is fallen now, and to rise no more : 
 Yet all is the same, and all speaks of thee ; 
 The hills, the waters — each shadowing tree 
 ►Seems like a link in memory's chain, 
 And calls back thine image, thy voice again. 
 
 * 
 
 I stand on the sloping and verdant shore, 
 And l;izc on the woods and waves once more ;
 
 Though scarcely as yet Spring's dawning hour 
 
 Has touched the earth with its gentle ]><>\\' 
 
 Y< I lovely is all, and fair to see, — 
 
 <)li ! would tli'iit wii-i here to gaze with me ! 
 
 The ruffled lake, as it rolls below, 
 
 Seems sprinkled \\ it li moi ing \\ reaths of snow ; 
 
 And breaking in foam on the pebbly shore, 
 
 With a sound oft heard, and beloved of yore, 
 
 Each ripple awakes, with its dreamy tone. 
 
 Sofl \isions of days thai are past and gone : 
 
 Beyond, still scorning the tempest's power, 
 
 The ancient woods o'er the waters tower, 
 
 Rising like spirits of days Ion-- past, — 
 
 Darkly their shadow around is ct 
 
 And their giant forms, as they tower on high, 
 
 Seem like the relies of days gone by. 
 
 < Hi. lovely it is in the pensive shade 
 
 Of that dark and ancestral wood [o tread, 
 
 And mark the beauties that mingle there. 
 
 Whore all around and above is fail- : 
 
 On every side immemorial tri 
 Gracefully wave in the rising breezi 
 Beneath, the hazel and briar are Been, 
 Blenl with the holly's unfading 
 
 Above, the oak scarce matured l,y time, 
 
 The tasselled larch and the fragrant lime. 
 The ash and elm in their rival pride, 
 With the shadowy beech, Btand side by side. 
 While the graceful birch, with its stem of snow, 
 
 EangS o'er the waters which roll below ; 
 And lovely the Bounds which meet mine ear. 
 
 For Nature's eternal voice is here :
 
 80 
 
 The waves' low sound, and the breeze's sigh, 
 Blend in their thrilling melody, 
 And touch the heart with as deep a spell, 
 As the music of earth in its softest swell. 
 
 Oft, oft hast thou wandered here alone, 
 And listened with rapture to that wild tone ; 
 And now, when thou nearest the rising breeze 
 Mournfully sigh through the bending trees, 
 Oh say, though afar thy footsteps roam, 
 Yet does not the form of thy childhood's home 
 Rise upon Memory's dream of the past, 
 Clear and distinct as when gazed on last ? 
 And dost thou not long to tread once more 
 The land our fathers have trod before, — 
 To gaze upon mountain, wood, and plain, 
 And breathe the air of our hills again ? 
 
 Well, soon I hope that the days may come, 
 When thou shalt revisit thine ancient home ; 
 But oh, wherever thy footsteps tread, 
 May countless blessings be round thee shed ; 
 May peace and joy, with unfading glow, 
 Lighten the path thou must tread below; 
 And dark or bright as thy lot may be, 
 < )h, oft may I share that lot with thee. 
 
 E. 
 
 Glasslough, March 8, 1836.
 
 81 
 
 STANZAS. 
 
 II ! can H be, I hal bear! 
 
 Must feel the deadening power of timi . 
 I And watch each tender hue depart, 
 Which blushed upon life's hour of pri 
 Must feelings, warm and glowing qi . 
 Grow cold beneath the chill of years, 
 And calmly gaze upon the woe 
 Once felt and wepl with kindred tears ? 
 
 oh ! say not all at last musl i ; el 
 
 Love, hope, and confidence di cay, 
 And every year that passes, steal 
 
 Some bond of sympathy away ; 
 Till all t lint kindly glow of heart. 
 
 Which makes another's hopes our own, 
 And weeps to see their joys deparl 
 
 Life's sweetest charity — is gone. 
 
 No, no ! — the glow of youth maj fade, — 
 
 Its once bright visions meH in 
 And cold realii Lea may shade 
 
 The fairy dreams of early years:
 
 82 
 
 The boundless trust of conscious truth, 
 Deceived, may weep away its prime,- 
 
 And yet the warmth of golden youth 
 Glow on, unchilled by grief or time. 
 
 Yes ; though departing, one by one, 
 
 Each cherished idol drops away, 
 Until the last bright star is gone, 
 
 Which beamed o'er life's declining day 
 Yet still, on Memory's tearful dream, 
 
 The sight of others' bliss can shed 
 A purer joy's reflected beam, 
 
 A light subdued, not wholly fled. 
 
 And e'en when one sad heart must drain 
 
 The bitterest cup of earthly woe, 
 When disappointment, care, and pain, 
 
 Seem man's sole heritage below ; 
 Yet still where sorrows chastened come, 
 
 Subdued, not hardened feelings rise, 
 And peace and love may lingering bloom, 
 
 Where joy for ever withered lies. 
 
 And some there are, whose early dreams, 
 
 Youth's poetry, outlives its years ; 
 Jn whom each spring of feeling seems 
 
 Unchilled by time, undimmed by tears 
 Though o'er their closing day may lower 
 
 Dark clouds of earthly woe and care, 
 rhe sunshine of life's morning hour, 
 
 Its tints of light still linger there.
 
 
 Xes : still for them all Nature breathi -. 
 
 Wiih beauty's deep though chastened Bpell . 
 Ami. still unbidden, Fancy wreath 
 
 Th" Bury flowers once loved bo well : 
 The dashing waves, tin' bending tri 
 
 Still sound like voices loved and gone; 
 Still music floats on every breeze, 
 
 Though now it hears a mournful tone. 
 
 Oh : say not then, thai passing years 
 
 Must warp each feeling kind and trm . 
 \nd dry that founi of blessed tear-. 
 
 Which fall like Summer's freshening dew; 
 No 1 be it mine, through joy and woe, 
 
 Living to Lov< — beloved to die ! — 
 No frozen hear! to all be! 
 
 E'er glowed with warmth for things on hi 
 
 May 21, L836. 
 
 
 <*^§M# 
 
 V
 
 64 
 
 FLO WEBS. 
 
 C5? LOWERS, lovely flowers ! to me they seem 
 Like things of life long loved and known, 
 |S\J Bright visions twined with many a dream 
 Of childhood memories past and gone. 
 
 Yes ! linked with those fair forms arise 
 
 No mournful hues of woe and care, 
 But, blended with their sunlit dyes, 
 
 Come thoughts as bright and hopes as fair. 
 
 Lovely they gleam beneath the light, 
 Which morning now in lustre flings, 
 
 While still the dewy tears of night 
 Are sparkling on their fairy wings. 
 
 They shine like some bright spirit band, 
 
 Nor seem one tint of earth to bear : 
 Aud well they may, — no mortal hand 
 
 Hath blent the hues which mingle there. 
 
 *»' 
 
 The rainbow arch in watery skies, 
 The gorgeous clouds at evening hour, 
 
 Alone can match the sunbright dyes. 
 Which shine in every lowly flower.
 
 35 
 
 Bright, glorious things, they sparkle th< . 
 
 Like gems along my pathway strewn: 
 Though every form I set; is lair, 
 
 Ea !i bears some beauty all its own. 
 
 And as a Bowery wreath I twine, 
 ( If countless forms, bnt lovely all, 
 
 What varied lights and shades combine, 
 To grace that simple coronal ! 
 
 Some brighter far than tongue can tell, 
 In gorgeous lustre dazzling bloom, — 
 
 Some paly as the tinted shell, 
 That Bleeps beneath the ocean foam. 
 
 And when, like sisters hand in hand, 
 The countless hues that mingle there, 
 
 Together twine in one bright hand, 
 
 Oh ! what can earth produce more fair? 
 
 I love them all,— each tells to me 
 Some tale of bright and childhood hours ; 
 
 And gentlest chords of memory 
 Still wreathe around those summer flowers. 
 
 A dream of days and pleasures gone, 
 Floats dimly o'er their forms again, 
 
 Like that which lingering taunts the tone 
 Of some long-loved familiar strain. 
 
 ■*»
 
 86 
 
 And hopes — young, sunny hopes are there, 
 All bright, like them, with early day, — 
 
 Perchance too like, — now cairn and fair, 
 But soon to fade and pass away. 
 
 But oh ! while outward things can cheer, 
 And lighten o'er life's passing hours, 
 
 To me must those fair forms be dear, — 
 Still must I love ye, gentle flowers ! 
 
 E. 
 August 16, 1836.
 
 XIGHT. 
 
 [GrHT, holy night ! there is a spell in t 
 Which far exceeds the noontide glai 
 Or pensive stillness of the twilight hoiu 
 Wheo thus, upon the wrap! and slumbi 
 earth, 
 
 Thick darkness broods, with iV-lt and awful po^ 
 The Bhrouded stars presume not to dispel. 
 Oh ! solemn is this noon of deepest night, 
 This pause of nature, like her hour of prayer. 
 "Tis silenee, darkness all ; no watery beam, 
 No ray of twilight trembles through the gloom ; 
 No sound is stealing on the murky air, 
 To break the stillness of this midnight calm; 
 And Nature, like a watchful mother, seems 
 iienee bending o'er her children's sleep. 
 rce breathing, Lest she break their deep rep 
 Yet pondering in her own all anxious heart. 
 The lights and shadows of their onward way. 
 
 Fair is the morning hour of dewy prim . 
 When earth awaking hounds to life again, 
 And thousand voices greet the new-born day. 
 Pair is the sultry DOon's unclouded glow.
 
 88 
 
 The stirless air, the blue and placid sky. 
 And oh ! how fair the fragrant calm of eve, — 
 Earth's peaceful sabbath, — nature's golden hour, — 
 When all is bright and balmy, pure and clear! 
 But none more fair, and none so felt icitliin, 
 As thine, Night ! when thus enshrouded sleep 
 The countless orbs, that sometimes gem thy brow 
 With radiance fairer, purer than the day, 
 And thou hast laid aside thy queenly state, 
 As if to muse, all wrapt in robe of gloom. — 
 It is the hour of thought : — now wake to life 
 The depths that sleep enshrined in every heart, 
 Perchance 'mid brighter scenes unfelt, unknown ; 
 But when the eye can meet no living form 
 On which to gaze, the mind unfettered turns 
 T<> seek that inborn light, — that mental beam, 
 Which brightest shines when all without is gloom. 
 
 As now I gaze into the night, and strive 
 
 To pierce that veil which mantles o'er her brow, 
 
 What thoughts and feelings, — yea, what living forms 
 
 Rise silently from yonder sea of gloom, 
 
 And sweep across the mind with magic power, 
 
 Mingling the future, present, and the past, 
 
 In one long waking dream. Oh, strange it is, 
 
 How from the inmost depths, where Memory sleeps, 
 
 .\l such an hour forgotten scenes arise : 
 
 At first like shadows, dim and undefined, 
 
 But brightening soon with clear though mellowed ray, 
 
 They live in thought again ; till, link by link, 
 
 The chain of past events shines forth once more, 
 
 Unbroken and undimmed. Yea ! all are there: 
 
 Familiar forms now throng the dark expanse;
 
 89 
 
 Glad voices float upon the breeze of night, 
 And gentle laughter rings. Alas 1 too soon 
 The Past has fled : and now the Present comi -. 
 With all its joys and sorrows, anxiona can -. 
 
 Ami sunny hopes still shadowed by its fears. 
 < >li, who can muse upon the present hour. — 
 The hour of life, still passing as it comes, — 
 Nor feel insensibly the Future rise, 
 With all her train of deep entrancing though! 
 And solemn feelings, sometimes bright and fair, 
 Bui ever touched with awe ? There earthly Hope 
 Delights to weave her chain of rosy dreams, 
 And soothe too real woes with phantom joys ; 
 And there Faith calmly lifts her trusting eye, 
 Discerning, 'mid the clouds that darken round. 
 A light no fear can quench, no sorrow dim ; 
 For oh ! from whencesoe'er those longings rise. 
 
 Which strive to pierce futurity, and rcadi 
 Beyond the veil which shrouds our coming yea 
 Each soaring thought at last must end in prayer: 
 For brightly though the distant haven shine, 
 And all is peaceful there, yet who can tell 
 How many a stormy blast and breaking wave' 
 May sweep their onward path to perfeel resl ? 
 It is a solemn thought. Oh! would thai I 
 
 Could always 'mid the jocund hours of da} 
 
 Think, feel as now! For al this stilly hour. 
 The meteor beam, which then too ofl invests 
 Lite's future scenes with brighi though fading flowers, 
 
 lias passed away, and in its ±\r:><\ remains, 
 Not clouds and darkness, bul a purer light, 
 Which shines undazzling now. vet calm and clear.
 
 90 
 
 Oh, Night! when girded thus with starless gloom 
 Thou art a solemn teacher. Every breath, 
 That floats like music o'er thy echoing calm, 
 But deeper binds the spell which darkness wove, 
 And silence nurtured. Cold must be the heart, 
 That on thy shadowy stillness now could gaze, 
 Yet turn again, unsoftened and unmoved, 
 To mingle in the world without a sigh. 
 
 E. 
 
 September 22, 1836.
 
 '.11 
 
 I.V i:<>ITNOCTIAL DAY 
 
 (>\Y Btrange! a Summer sun below, 
 
 Above a wintry blast j 
 Here basking in meridian glow, 
 There stormy winds rush ps 
 Within this sheltered nook, the breeze 
 Scarce waves yon flowerets pale ; 
 
 While far above, the topmost tri 
 Are bending in the gale. 
 
 The winds their voices Lift on high, 
 
 The woods the sound prolong ; 
 Oh, well 1 love thai melody 
 
 < If wild, unearthly song! 
 And well I love, when Bunshine flings 
 
 lis radiance upon earth, 
 To listen to the tempest's wings, 
 
 Unfurled as if in mirth. 
 
 For who, on such a day, could deem 
 The voice of wrath was nigh ? 
 
 There's Summer in the Laughing beam, 
 There's Summer in the skv.
 
 92 
 
 But see ! across that arch of light 
 The snow-white clouds flit fast ; 
 
 Like heralds of the coming ficrht. 
 They ride upon the blast. 
 
 Oh ! strange it is, when all around 
 
 Is calmly bright and fair, 
 To hear that fierce, unearthly sound 
 
 Rush wildly on the air ; 
 To see the whirling leaves in showers 
 
 Untimely strew the earth, 
 While not a breath disturbs the flowers 
 
 Which there have lowly birth. 
 
 Rush on, ye stormy winds ! rush on 
 
 Beneath the deep blue sky ! 
 Uove to hear that thrilling tone 
 
 In melody sweep by. 
 Sing round the mouutaius in your mirth, 
 
 Float o'er the hills with glee ; 
 Breathe o'er the lowly plains of earth, 
 
 And dance upon the sea ! 
 
 The sea ! I thought not on the sea. 
 
 Ye tempests, cease to rave, 
 Or though on earth your home may be, 
 
 Yet breathe not on the wave. 
 Oh! rouse not from their giant sleep 
 
 The billows and the surge, 
 Or that storm may sound across the deep, 
 
 Full many a seaman's dirge.
 
 
 •Tie fearful on the raging main, 
 
 Though lovely here on Land, 
 W'Iiiiv the varied seasons seem again 
 
 Kntw ining hand in hand : 
 The golden hue of Summer time, 
 
 The Autumn tints of grief; 
 All save the Spring's young hour of prime, 
 
 Her fresh and verdant leaf. 
 
 Like yonth, she cannot come again, 
 
 Borne on unruffled \\ ing ; 
 The circling year, and life's brief span, 
 
 Call feel no second Spring. 
 
 On Winter's brow may Summer's beam 
 
 Shine brightly as of yore, 
 But still that early morning dream, 
 
 Life's spring-time, comes n<> inure. 
 
 Bui oh ! it' Faith and Peace illume 
 
 ( >nr mellow Antiunn day. 
 
 Who could regret the vernal bloom 
 
 That passed so SOOD away ? 
 
 Who o'er the Betting sun could sigh, 
 
 [f sure the mom would bring 
 A beam to light Eternity, — 
 
 A never-fading Spring ? 
 
 September 24, L836.
 
 94 
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 HE Autumn leaves are falling fast, 
 
 And strew my onward way ; 
 All wears the hue of beauty past, 
 Now mellowing to decay. 
 And yet wan leaf and fading flower 
 Can touch the heart with deeper power 
 
 Than Summer's bright array ; 
 For who but feels that beauty's spell 
 Is deepest when she breathes farewell ? 
 
 And now, when tints like evening steal 
 
 O'er all the earth and sky, 
 When Nature seems with grief to feel 
 
 Her dying hour is nigh, 
 'Tis sweet, though mournful, thus to gaze 
 Upon the wreck of other days, 
 
 And watch their glories die, 
 While still the sun's departing beam 
 Falls soft on mountain, wood, and stream. 
 
 An Autumn sunset, — all most bright 
 
 And peaceful mingles there ; 
 The golden sky, the mellowed light, 
 
 The calm and stirless air ;
 
 95 
 
 Witli yet thai melancholy smile, 
 Which oft bo Badly gilds awhile 
 The "twilight of the year ;" 
 As it' -till Summer, lingering, Bhone 
 I )"■ r Bcenes from which her warmth was . 
 
 And yel at this delicious hour 
 
 How lowly is the scene ! 
 Vnii woods that o'er the waters tower, 
 
 Alas : no Longer green ! 
 still in mournful beauty c 
 All radiant with the thousand dyes 
 
 Which reil where death has been, 
 And bright in mimic lustre glow, 
 l'l»on the clear long lake below. 
 
 Light from on high is bursting now. 
 
 I Per mountain, wood, and plain . 
 Light streams on Autumn's fading brow, 
 
 And gilds her Bmiles again. 
 Alike earth, sky. and wai m 
 
 To Bleep entranced in that bright bi 
 
 Without one cloud or Btain, 
 And bask beneath the sunny ray. 
 Too soon, alas : to fade away. 
 
 But ah ! that beam gives not the mirth 
 
 A Summer sunshine gave ; 
 There is a stillness on tin- earth, 
 \. hush ni'"'.: the wave,
 
 9G 
 
 A voiceless calm, which seems to say, 
 The hour is come, that farewell ray 
 
 But gilds au opeuing grave. 
 As if you sun still strove to cheer, 
 With sorrowing heain, the dying year. 
 
 Yes, Nature, thy dark hour is nigh, — 
 
 Death's hues are on thy brow ; 
 But oh, how still and peacefully 
 
 Dost thou in silence bow ! 
 Oh ! would that all, when life ebbs fast, 
 And evening comes, might sink at last 
 
 As calm and bright as thou, 
 Cheered by that light from Heaven which glows 
 Like thine — the brightest at the close. 
 
 Glasslaugh, October 22, 1836. 
 
 *$®m*
 
 '.i7 
 
 77//; MEETING SHIPS. 
 
 AVI FT bounding o'er the shoreless tide, 
 £<£& A gallant bark sweeps on, 
 
 ^■^.vVn \ I1( ] M .,.| 11S iis jf in conscious pride 
 
 She walks the waves alone. 
 she spreads her white wings to the wind. 
 
 Ami dashes through the loam, 
 As blithe as [f she Lefl behind 
 
 No friendly heart or home. 
 
 And yet, of all the forms she bears 
 
 Across the boundless main, 
 Ilnw few shall gaze through joyful tears 
 
 < >n England's cliffs again ! 
 In Eastern climes, far, far away, 
 
 ( >n India's burning shore, 
 Full many a heart, now glad and gay, 
 
 .Musi sleep i" wake no more. 
 
 5Tel on, ye hopeful hearts, and thou, 
 
 ( Mir gallanl ship, speed on ; 
 Amid the world of waters now, 
 
 Thon art not all alone. — 
 For lo ! a speck upon the wave 
 
 Attracts each gazing eye : 
 
 It nears. and now a hark as brave 
 As that she meets draws niffh.
 
 98 
 
 A. homeward bound ! right merrily 
 
 She ploughs the stormy main, 
 With many a heart that yearns to see 
 
 Fair Albion's shores again. 
 Returning from that distant land, 
 
 Where toilsome years had sped, 
 They meet the gallant exile band, 
 
 Bound the same path to tread. 
 
 They meet upon the boundless waste, 
 
 The melancholy sea, 
 And one short hour of converse past, 
 
 Speed onward and away. 
 Brief words exchanged, kind greetings said, 
 
 Each, as she hastens on, 
 And sees the other slowly fade, 
 
 Feels doubly now alone. 
 
 Sudden they met, too soon to part, — 
 
 Yet still that social hour 
 Has stirred the depths of many a heart 
 
 With deep and 'whelming power ; 
 The homeward bound still lingers there, 
 
 And blent with struggling sighs, 
 Man's blessing, woman's tearful prayer, 
 
 Breathe on her as she flies. 
 
 Docs she not seek their Fatherland, 
 
 Far o'er the ocean foam, — 
 Friends, country, all the cherished baud 
 
 That cluster round their home?
 
 09 
 
 oh! as the wanderers watch, how fast 
 
 She bounds upon her way, 
 The seaboy on her rocking mast 
 
 Seems happier far than they. 
 
 No marvel that Eope flies awhile 
 
 Those semes she strewed with flowers, 
 And Memory's mingling tear and smile. 
 
 Re-light departed hours ; 
 No marvel that the eastern Bides, 
 
 So bright to fancy's dreams, 
 Should fade as wakening thoughts arise 
 
 Of England's woods and streams. 
 
 Tis past ! Upon th' horizon's verge 
 
 The last faint shadow dies, 
 And now the wide unbroken surge 
 
 Blends with the meet Ing skies ; 
 Evening comes down upon the deep, 
 
 From storm or ruffle tree, 
 And calm as infant's dreamless sleep, 
 
 Night falls upon the sea. 
 
 Rest, wanderers, rest in peace once more, 
 
 Rocked on the billows' foam, 
 And dream, amid the ocean mar, 
 
 Of loved ones and of home. 
 And oh ! when youth is on the wane. 
 
 And life's green leaves are sere, 
 May ye return in peace again, 
 
 To all OH earth most dear. 
 
 1:. 
 
 December, 1886.
 
 100 
 
 TO THE DYING YEAR. 
 
 IGHT falls on land and sea, 
 
 'Mid starlight calm and clear ; 
 The last that e'er shall close o'er thee, 
 Departing year. 
 
 The moon is bright on high, 
 Stars gem the vault sublime ; 
 They beam upon thy dying eye, 
 Thou child of Time. ' 
 
 All earth entranced appears, 
 No breath is on the wave ; 
 Nature in silence sheds her tears 
 Around thy grave. 
 
 Yet calmly dost thou die, 
 And o'er thine opening tomb 
 No ragiug blast or shrouded sky 
 Sheds storm and gloom. 
 
 But as one full of years, 
 
 Honoured nnd loved, must bow 
 At last amid his children's tears, 
 So fadcst thou. 
 
 Yet who without a sigh 
 Can see thee pass away, 
 And think how swiftly too flies by, 
 Youth's early day ?
 
 L03 
 
 Rope shines noi o'er thee now, — 
 She seeks the rising year ; 
 Bui faithful Memory's warmesi glow 
 Still lingers there. 
 
 Her magic power can bring 
 The varied scenes again, 
 That chequered o'er thy fleeting wing 
 With joy or pain. 
 
 And though they all have fled, 
 And thou art fading now, 
 Yei light like that which L'ilds the dead 
 Beams o'er thy brow. 
 
 Oh ! who can ponder o'er 
 Thy scenes of good and ill, 
 Nor bless the love that spared once more, 
 Unwearied still? 
 
 And pray thai every wave, 
 On Time's eventful se; ( . 
 Tinged with a light earth never gave, 
 More bright may 1*'. 
 
 Old year, thou art fading fast ' 
 
 Darker the shadows fall ! 
 And round thee, like a mantle cast, 
 Night spreads her palL 
 
 Hark! on the breeze 1 hear 
 Thy solemn midnight knell, 
 And thou ail gone. Departed year. 
 Once more Farewell .' 
 
 mber 31, 1836. 
 
 E.
 
 102 
 
 LINES. 
 
 N"D now my task is done ! The last pale 
 
 flower, 
 "Which bloomed to mourn the year's de- 
 parting hour, 
 Mas closed the wreath that fancy twined for thee 
 From many a hue of hope and memory ; 
 Bright gems upon the dreamy future cast, 
 And fading leaves, that linger round the past. 
 Yes, here pale blossoms shine, and lowly flowers, 
 That sprang to life in gay or sombre hours ; 
 And scentless though to some their hues may seem, 
 Yet thou, I trust, will not all worthless deem 
 These wild flowers culled beneath the morning sky, 
 These springtime buds of gentle poesy, 
 For sweet the task to twine them here for thee. 
 Aud now 'tis done, — then what remains for me ? 
 What but an oft-told tale again to tell, 
 Aud breathe with swelling heart a long farewell ; 
 To say once more whilever life is mine, 
 My heart's best love and fondest thoughts arc thine. 
 
 As now upon these fairy leaves I gaze, 
 
 Ibnv bright again the torch of memory plays 
 
 O'er every passing scene aud parted hour 
 
 Which called those thoughts to life with magic power,
 
 1 1 13 
 
 And bade the Blumbering fancy, roused once more, 
 In numbers wild those inward feelings pour! 
 Yes, as I lin^erini,' trace each simple Btrain, 
 Time, place, e'en vanished sounds, return again; 
 'Till I can live in thought those bygone years, 
 With all their joys and sorrows, hopes and fears. 
 And feel as then the Lights or shadows play 
 That chequered o'er full many a Long-past day: 
 And when perchance thy gentle eye may fall 
 On these lighi leaves, wilt thou not then recall 
 Some hour of converse spent together here, 
 To memory, or at least to mc, most dear? 
 
 Since last we met, how doubly swift and light 
 
 The wing8 of time have seemed to press their flight ! 
 
 Till now I scarce can think it all is past, 
 
 And that sad hour is come when we at last 
 
 Must feel that every pleasure brings its pain. 
 
 And part once more, — oh! when bo meet again? 
 
 Yes, when shall we together gladly stray 
 
 '.Mid scenes where happiest hours have passed away: 
 
 Trace every well-known spot on hill and plain, 
 
 And breathe the air that thrills our hearts again? 
 
 'Tis vain to ash ; no mortal tongue can tell. 
 
 Tj • :i must I breathe at last a sad farewell. 
 
 In treasured hope, before another year 
 
 lias passed away, with joy to meel thee here. 
 
 And oh! may every blessing earth can know. 
 
 On thy dear head in streams of bounty (low. 
 
 And nought e'er dim the chain that hinds US now. 
 
 In friendship's purest bond and warmest -low. 
 
 E. 
 Glasslough, March 3, 1837.
 
 KU 
 
 LINES FOR MUSIC. 
 
 WEE'S hour of eve, calm golden skies, 
 
 Dear are ye still to me ; 
 Voiceless the earth in slumber lies, 
 Silent the heaving sea : 
 Bright as yon sunset, fancy's power 
 
 Weaves now her flowery chain ; 
 Calm as the twilight's mournful hour, 
 Fond memory wakes again. 
 
 Who but must feel the dying day 
 
 Breathes forth a magic tone, 
 Touching to life scenes passed away, 
 
 Bright visions wept and gone ? 
 And as the dreams of early years 
 
 Rise bright on memory's wing, 
 I live again the smiles and tears 
 
 Time never more can bring. 
 
 Friends of my youth, this stilly hour, 
 
 Fair nature's Sabbath time, 
 Calls back to life, with magic power, 
 
 Our morning hour of prime ! 
 Some lowly sleep, some roam afar, 
 
 But, dearly loved as then, 
 Ye rise like yonder dawning star, 
 
 Bright clothed with life again. 
 
 [■;. 
 
 May, lyyr,
 
 103 
 
 LINES. 
 
 TO X. T. 
 
 XJ) didst thou, then, unchanged, unmoved, 
 
 For years still cling to one, 
 Nor e'er forget thai one beloved, 
 Though hope almost was gone? 
 And didst thou in full many a BCene, 
 
 When all around was gay, 
 Still turn to hours that once had been, 
 And her so far away ? 
 
 Blessings upon thy faithful heart ! 
 
 That heart which nought could chai 
 Time failed to bid its love depart, 
 
 Or absence to estrange, 
 years passed upon their rapid wings, 
 
 The scenes of earth swept on ; 
 Set, firm amid all fleeting thinj 3, 
 
 Thy heart siill clung to one. 
 
 And now, when hope at last appears, 
 < Mi ! may that loved one prove 
 
 The rainbow of thy future year- ! 
 The pole-star of thy love!
 
 10G 
 
 And like the moon, with borrowed ray, 
 
 In thy light only shine ; 
 Feel every cloud that dims thy way, 
 
 And share each joy of thine. 
 
 Yes, dearest ! now I feel to be 
 
 Thine own in heart and hand, 
 And cheerfully I leave for thee 
 
 My home and native land. 
 I take thy lot, — in joy or pain, 
 
 One wish one prayer is mine, 
 That life nor death may break the chain 
 
 "Which binds my soul to thine. 
 
 June, 1837, 
 
 E.
 
 m; 
 
 TEE FAMILY BURYING-PLACE. 
 
 IT ! linger, linger yet awhile, 
 And let us once more gaze 
 On yonder dim and crumbling aisle. 
 Those tombs of other days ; 
 That spot of all the sacred shrine 
 
 Pass thou not lightly by, 
 For there a long and honoured line, 
 In death together lie. 
 
 Fes, close heside the altar ston< . 
 
 Embalmed in holy ground, 
 One race, for ages past and gone, 
 
 Their resting-place haw found. 
 They passed on earth their Heeling span. 
 
 Felt all life's joy and Woe ; 
 
 Yet dust to dust returned again, — 
 They sleep forgotten now. 
 
 See all around, above, beneath, 
 Each sculptured tablet seems 
 As if Love strove to snatch from heath. 
 
 At least their cherished names.
 
 108 
 
 But numbers there for ages past 
 Have slumbered side by side, 
 
 Till all that memory knows at last 
 Is — once they lived and died. 
 
 In morning's prime, in manhood's day, 
 
 In life's calm sunset hour, 
 They one by one have passed away, — 
 
 Earth knows their place no more : 
 For some, 'tis true, in many a breast 
 
 Still love and memory glow ; 
 Tbe last who there in silence rest, 
 
 Alone remembered now. 
 
 Tis sad, — 'tis sad to trace again 
 
 The names recorded there, 
 And feel how swiftly death and pain 
 
 Blight all on earth most fair ; 
 To think our home, in bygone years, 
 
 They too have called their own ; 
 And trod life's path of smiles and tears, 
 
 Where we now follow on. 
 
 Burst forth, thou sunbeam glad and gay ! 
 
 Shine on the marble tomb ! 
 Perchance thy light may chase away 
 
 My spirit's gathering gloom ; 
 A weight seems crushing down my heart. 
 
 As here I lowly bow, 
 And think how soon life's joys depart, — 
 
 Flowers withering as they blow.
 
 L09 
 
 Thrice blessed words of hope and faith, 
 
 Recorded od the grave, 
 Ye Bhine amid the gloom of death, 
 
 Like beacons od the wave ! 
 Bright as the- rainbow's arch Bnblime, 
 
 Spanning the Btormy sky, 
 X, beam apoD the clouds of time, 
 
 A light thai cannot die. 
 
 Godinton, October 3, L837. 
 
 i:.
 
 no 
 
 LINES. 
 
 DECEMBER 31, 1837. 
 
 DIE hurries on ; 
 
 Years pass away like visions of the night — 
 Scarce seen to rise upon the raptured sight 
 Till all is <rone. 
 
 Alas ! in vain 
 We strive, with fevered grasp, to bid that stream 
 One moment pause ; it passes like a dream, — 
 
 Ne'er felt again. 
 
 Yet who can gaze 
 Upon youth's glowing hours, scarce tinged with pain, 
 Nor sigh to think time ne'er can bring again 
 
 Those merry days ? 
 
 What heart of man 
 Can hear unmoved the voice of other years, 
 And see departed hopes, forgotten fears, 
 
 Arise again ? 
 
 Yet at this hour, 
 When we must bid a child of time farewell, 
 Such thoughts, such feelings, wake with deeper spell, 
 
 And tenfold power.
 
 We Btand once more 
 Beside the bomb where Blumber ages past, 
 To watch another year rejoin at last 
 
 The erone he lore. 
 
 - 
 
 And as she dies. 
 O'er every heart the scenes her wing hath brought, 
 The weal, the woe, her brief career hath wrought, 
 
 Once more arise. 
 
 We live again 
 
 'Mid vanished shadows, voices far away, — 
 And all that chequered o'er her fleeting daj 
 With joy or pain. 
 
 When thou arose, 
 Departing year, I little thought to me, 
 How changed in till my lot on earth should be, 
 
 Ere reached thy close! 
 
 I'.ir thou hast seen 
 L<>n<r-cherished hopes, time could not till destroy, 
 Beam forth again and end in purest joy, 
 
 In light serene. 
 
 Thy days, that Hew 
 On fairy wings, have joined my earthly lot 
 To one — in absence, darkness, ne'er forgot — 
 
 Long hived and trite. 
 
 Yes, time can ne'er 
 Efface thy bright remembrance. Can I. then. 
 
 Behold thee pass away and feel no pain, 
 Thrice blessed year?
 
 112 
 
 No ! o'er the sky 
 Of life's meridian many a cloud may gloom, 
 But yet to me thy memory still must come, 
 
 Like light from high. 
 
 Would that my heart 
 Those countless mercies undeserved might raise 
 From earthly things, to choose through future days 
 
 The hetter part. 
 
 Oh ! may the year 
 Which now begins her silent course to tread, 
 O'er all I love unnumbered blessings shed, 
 
 Or far or near. 
 
 And oh ! may we, 
 Who now have watched her birth, as calmly stand. 
 With thankful hearts, a yet unbroken band, 
 
 To see her die. 
 
 E.
 
 113 
 
 A WINTRY SCENE. 
 
 rc— m «- 
 
 |^0W silently, all wrapped in robe of below, 
 Earth seems to sleep beneath yon cloud 
 
 sky, 
 , Blue, bright, and beautiful, as if the glow 
 Of Summer basked beneath that smiling sun. 
 Ami not the form of Winter's sterneBi hour. 
 For Bee ! or far or near the eye can meet 
 No touch of Nature's softer hues,— no spot 
 Of spring-time verdure near, bul all around 
 In dazzling whiteness spreads the untrodden Bnow, 
 One boundless waste, cold, calm, and motionl 38, 
 But still most beautiful. There diamond sparks, 
 Like those thai glitter on the moonlight wi 
 Besprinkle o'er the plains of stainless mow, 
 Thai seem, as there they shine in changeful hues, 
 The magic pavement of Borne fairy hall. 
 Frost, too, her w izard ministry hath lent, 
 Ami hung each lowly shrub or towering tree 
 W ith glittering wreaths of many an airy form, 
 And pendent crystals, bright, fantastic, puj 
 As those that gleam beneath dark ocean's ca\ 
 "I'is Winter's loveliest, though his sternest hour: 
 The very keenness of the piercing air 
 
 i
 
 114 
 
 Feels light and cheerful; o'er the crispy snow, 
 Which scarce beneath the passing footstep yields, 
 I love to tread, — and even here can find 
 Fresh beauty still, and charms for ever new. 
 
 Yes ; though all looks so drear, yet still to me 
 There is a something in this wintry scene, 
 A touching stillness in the echoing calm, 
 That wraps the earth in silence. Frost has flung 
 Her voiceless chain upon the murmuring breeze, 
 And hushed awhile the laughing streamlet's voice 
 In icy stillness : 'neath that vault of blue, 
 Which spreads unclouded o'er the slumbering world, 
 No sound is heard, — no murmur breaks the spell 
 ( )f noonday silence, save where one low note 
 The robin breathes in mournful melody, 
 Or icicle, that feels the sunbeam's power, 
 Drops tinkling 'mid the withered leaves below. 
 All heaven and earth are still ! Oh, who but feels 
 The charm of such an hour — the witching spell 
 This hush of Nature casts o'er every heart, 
 Waking again the dreams of other days, 
 The voice of years long past ! At least, to me, 
 Such silence seems to touch the inmost depths 
 Where Memory sleeps, and rouse to life once more 
 Scenes long departed — hours that passed away, 
 And cannot come again. 
 
 My earthly lot 
 I would not change for all this world can give. 
 Yet marvel not, if at an hour like this, 
 An hour so rife with all that stirs the thoughts 
 Of early days, my heart still yearns for home, 
 And all the well-known tones, familiar forms,
 
 115 
 
 The thousand nameless ties that twine around 
 .My Dative land and home. 
 
 Thou wilt not chid'', 
 Beloved ! feelings like to these, nor deem 
 The heart less all thine own, that sometimes thus 
 Returns, with fund remembrance, to the thought 
 Of all these distant loved ones, scattered wide. 
 In life or death than thee alone less dear. 
 
 E. 
 Godinton, January 20, 1838. 
 
 ^ %*r
 
 11G 
 
 AN APRIL SNOW STORM. 
 
 OW strange ! to see the flowers of Spring, 
 
 'Mid falling snow-wreaths bloom, 
 And Winter, borne on April's wing, 
 Reshadow earth with gloom. 
 To feel the blast that rushes o'er 
 
 Young blossoms newly born ; 
 The chill that wraps in night once more 
 Spring's gay and joyous morn. 
 
 Fall as thou wilt, untimely snow, 
 
 But short shall be thy reign ; 
 Soon must yon sun's meridian glow 
 
 Melt thine unwelcome chain. 
 But all, in many a blasted leaf, 
 
 In many a blighted flower, 
 Long, long shall lire, in tints of grief, 
 
 The memory of this hour. 
 
 I see the crocus hues decay 
 Beneath yon stormy skies; 
 
 The violet lustre fades away, 
 The gentle primrose dies.
 
 Ami though ill" sun of Summer hours 
 
 < >'<•!• lovelier tints may gleam, 
 No more skill Spring's firsl blighted flowers 
 
 Revive beneath its beam. 
 
 And Bometi s thus, the heart, all bright 
 
 With youth's first opening bloom, 
 Feels some dark cloud turn joy to night, 
 
 And hope to cheerless gloom : 
 And though the sun of life's besi hours 
 
 May bursi thai icy chain, 
 Ye\ never can youth's Bpring-time flowers 
 
 Bloom fresh and pure again. 
 
 i: 
 
 Godinton, April 1 1, 1838.
 
 118 
 
 LIXES. 
 
 \ IS almost midnight's hour, aiid bright on 
 high, 
 
 The moon in placid beauty walks the sky ; 
 
 The stars, a countless train, attend her 
 way, 
 And gem her path with many a tribute ray, 
 Till every envious cloud that passes there, 
 Transformed to silver, makes her still more fair. 
 In mellowed light that chastened lustre streams 
 O'er earth and sky, that sleep beneath its beams, 
 Till Nature seems to thrill beneath the power, 
 The spell that rests on such a magic hour, 
 And wakes again her charms for eye and ear, 
 To bless the lovely night of Summer near ; — 
 To hymn His praise who thus from day to day 
 Fulfils the pledge of ages passed away, — 
 A.nd spring-time hope and harvest joy displays, 
 To many a heart that never throbbed with praise. 
 
 At such an hour, the coldest breast must feel 
 
 Eternal Nature's silent grandeur thrill 
 
 Through every nerve, and melt the icy chain 
 
 Of gathering years, to youth's bright Spring again. 
 
 Until the cold world's stern. and withering sway, 
 
 Wrapt in a dream of childhood, melts away ; 
 
 And all the tenderness of early years 
 
 Bursts forth in breathing sighs, or soft warm tears ! 
 
 01,, surely none could stand and gaze alone 
 
 ( >n such a scene, nor feel one kindred tone,
 
 11 '.I 
 
 One gush of Bpring-time warm hie heart again. 
 
 And in that moment cancel years of pain! 
 
 Look round, — those immemorial trees, 
 
 That wave their fresh-crowned branches in the breeze, 
 
 And lift their L^iaiit tonus towards yon dark skies, 
 Now seem like spirits of the past to rifi 
 And in this hour of hope, with solemn tone, 
 To tell the tale of many a spring-time gone, — 
 Of changing years, — of hearts the young, the gay, 
 That one by one lone- since have passed away, 
 While they remain, in lofty beauty's prime. 
 Like things that scorn the withering hand of Time ! 
 The blush of youth is on their forms once more. 
 For Spring has touched the earth with gentle power, 
 And all around the fresh and new-horn flowers, 
 The bursting leaves, proclaim her joyous hours. 
 That youth of Nature, breathing mirth and Bong, 
 Like life's bright morn, too sweet to linger long ! 
 All earth can give of beauty mingles there; 
 Sweel scents are floating through the quiet air, 
 Shed forth from every fragrant shrub and flower, 
 Night's incense breathed upon her holiest hour. 
 Nor sound is wanting, — chiming soft and clear, 
 The distant Bheep-bell tinkles on the ear; 
 While swiftly rushing by on humming wine-. 
 The new-born insects greet returning Spring. 
 And hark! amid yOD dark ancestral trees, 
 A burst of music rises on the breeze : 
 A gush of sweetness thrills the silent air, — 
 A song no art can mock is warbled there. 
 'Tis thy sweet melody, night's minstrel bird ! 
 Amid the sounds of day almost unheard ;
 
 120 
 
 Bat now, -when earth in breathing stillness lies, 
 
 Poured forth in richness to the silent skies, 
 
 And deepening still with music's magic power, 
 
 The spell of such a scene, and such an hour. 
 
 All, all is passing fair. Oh ! would that thou, 
 
 My earliest friend ! werfc here beside me now ; 
 
 To watch with me the moonlit earth and sky, — 
 
 Those scenes which most delight thy pensive eye ; 
 
 To breathe the fragrant night-breeze, pure and clear, 
 
 And more than all — that thrilling voice to hear ! 
 
 My lot is changed ; new ties entwine me now — 
 
 The best, the holiest earth can ever know; 
 
 Yet still my heart as warmly clings to thee, 
 
 As in those bygone hours so dear to me: 
 
 And thou art fondly cherished, longed for still, 
 
 With love no time can change, no absence chill. 
 
 Thine image rises 'mid the dreams of home, 
 
 Of all I loved beyond the ocean foam, 
 
 Yet left with willing heart, and scarce a tear, 
 
 To share the lot of one than all more dear ; 
 
 And still I love, at midnight's witching hour, 
 
 To weave for thee the wreath of song once more, — 
 
 To twine those flowers that yet, I trust, to thee 
 
 Not scentless bloom, though wild their fragrance be. 
 
 Oh ! take them then, and if their hues may bring 
 
 One thought of home, one breath of gentle Spring, 
 
 To cheer thy spirit where its lot is cast — 
 
 The ungenial clime where duty holds thee last, — 
 
 'Twill glad the heart that traced these numbers here. 
 
 The heart to which thou long hast been most dear ! 
 
 E. 
 Godinton, June, 1838.
 
 121 
 
 LINES. 
 
 V Firstborn ! strange and sweet it Beems, 
 
 To gaze upon thy placid brow, 
 And think the form, ofl seen in dreams, 
 Within my arms is cradled now ; 
 To feel thon art indeed mine n« n. 
 
 And clasp thee closer to my heart, 
 With love that Beems before unknown, 
 Rut now can never more depart. 
 
 My Firstborn ! tears alone could speak 
 
 The joy thai rushed through every vein. 
 When Hrsi I pressed thy downy cheek. 
 
 With lips too wreak to bless thee then, 
 And fell a mother's untold love 
 
 My inmost hear! with rapture thrill, — 
 A low no earthly power can move, 
 
 No time can change, no Borrow chill. 
 
 .M\ Firstborn ! on that infanl face, 
 
 Which semis to me so passing fair, 
 I love to gaze, and fondly trace 
 
 Thy father's softened feai ures there. 
 Thou hast the same high, noble brow, 
 
 The same blue eye and auburn hair, 
 
 • 
 
 The same sweet smile. — and oh! mayest thou 
 
 * 
 
 In heart as well his likeness hear.
 
 122 
 
 My Firstborn ! I could almost weep, 
 
 To watch thy peaceful slumber now, 
 And think how soon the world may steep 
 
 With grief and pain that calm, fair brow. 
 Oh ! chequered must thy pathway be ; 
 
 For woman's lot, my child, is thine ; 
 And all life's brightest joys, to thee, 
 
 With mingling tears at least must shine. 
 
 My Firstborn ! 'tis thy mother's part 
 
 To watch thy being's opening day, — 
 To train aright thy guileless heart, 
 
 And ceaselessly for thee to pray. 
 And oh ! may He who gave thee breath 
 
 Be still thy guide, thy strength, thy shield, 
 And make thee His in life and death, 
 
 My opening Flower ! my Firstborn Child ! 
 
 July 31, 1838.
 
 123 
 
 ACROSTIC. 
 
 REY walls ! where now for ages passed and 
 
 gone, 
 One race by turns have trod from sire to 
 
 son, 
 
 Darkly ye frown, amid those woods which ris«- 
 In ancient grandeur to the dark bine skies, 
 Nor Beem the weight of centuries to feel : 
 Though ye are grey and worn, but lovely still ! 
 Old halls, ancestral towers, where'er we roam, 
 No other land can give — an English fiome ! 
 
 E. 
 
 November 24, 1838.
 
 124 
 
 LINES. 
 
 TRANGE, strange ! what rushing memories 
 come 
 With that familiar strain ; 
 And how within mine own old home, 
 I seem to live again ! 
 Beloved forms are floating near, 
 
 Yet still I feel alone ; 
 Glad voices ring upon mine ear, 
 Yet mournful is their tone. 
 
 Oh ! ever thus, on Memory's dream, 
 
 A tinge of grief is cast, 
 And shadows deep though softened, seem 
 
 To linger o'er the past : 
 E'en when the thought of youthful joy 
 
 Almost to mirth beguiles, 
 We mingle light with shade, and sigh 
 
 Amid remembered smiles. 
 
 It is not that grief presses now, 
 Or joy has passed away, — 
 
 Perchance a better, calmer glow, 
 Illumes life's noontide day :
 
 Bui o'er the past we linger still 
 
 Willi melancholy gaze, 
 And think we ue'er again can feel 
 
 As in those merry days. 
 
 We love i" trace again the dreams, 
 
 The thoughts of other years, 
 While o'er thai land of memory streams 
 
 A sunshine bleni with tears ! 
 And still beams forth, in golden dyes, 
 
 The light of early day, 
 While every cloud on those bright Bides 
 
 < 
 
 Eas almosl fled away. 
 
 And yet — oh! wayward hearts and strange ! 
 
 While o'er the past we grie^ 
 Our present lot we would oot change 
 
 For all this world can give : 
 ( me blessing that entvt ines us now 
 
 \\ e would ii"i see decay. 
 For all thi' sunshine and the glow 
 
 Of youth's most brilliant day. 
 
 But Btill, that holy melody 
 
 Awakes h ithin m\ breast 
 Remembrances thai cannot die, 
 
 And thoughts i hat will oot n -r 
 I »ld times return, old feelings rush 
 
 Upon my hearl again, 
 Till all is lost in thai deep gush 
 
 < >f mingled joy and pain.
 
 126 
 
 Oh ! well it is, we feel 'tis vaiu 
 
 Upon the past to gaze, 
 And think how we should live again 
 
 The scenes of bygone days : 
 Enough, if thankfully we learn 
 
 The present hour to prize, 
 And as Time gone can ne'er return, 
 
 Improve it as it flies. 
 
 E. 
 March 3, 1839.
 
 TO MY CHILI' IX ILLNESS. 
 
 Y child! beside thy little bed 
 
 I sit with aching ln-art, 
 And feel with mingled grief and dread. 
 Perchance we soon must part : 
 I gaze upon thy troubled Bleep, 
 
 Thy flushed and fevered brow ; 
 And though thai Borrow cannot weep, 
 I feel what none can know. 
 
 For oh ! if God should please to take 
 
 Thy sinless spirit now, 
 Methinka this bursting heart would break, 
 
 E'en while it strove to bow. 
 And yet my inmost wish is still 
 
 To feel His ways are best, — 
 To bend me to His holy will, 
 
 And bid each murmur rest. 
 
 Bui though in health 1 loved thee more 
 Thau human tongue can tell, 
 
 1 never knew, till this Bad hour. 
 1 loved thee half so well.
 
 128 
 
 Thy patient smiles, thy gentleness, 
 But deeper wring my heart, 
 
 And make me feel, with new distress. 
 My Baby ! must we part ? 
 
 God forbid ! in hope I feel 
 
 Perchance the worst is o'er, 
 And thou mayest live to cheer us still, 
 
 Bright, joyous as before. 
 And may we strive to make that life 
 
 Thine endless blessing prove, 
 Or, if thou must depart, believe 
 
 That thou art safe above ! 
 
 Hastings, April 26, 1839.
 
 129 
 
 SPRING. 
 
 PKIX<; bursts u])(«n the waking earth ; 
 
 Her voice resouiid8 o'er wood and plain ; 
 Ami Nature, starting to new birth, 
 Glows with the blush of youth again. 
 'I he fairest daughter of the year 
 
 Bounds on her rosy path the while, 
 With hope in every passing tear, 
 And joy in every sunny smile. 
 
 Life breathes upon the world once more; 
 
 Her mighty hearl again throbs high ; 
 And bursting leaf, and waking flower, 
 
 Proclaim she slept, hut could not die. 
 Each breath upon the Bcented gale, 
 
 Each sound upon the balmy air, 
 Seems bul to teU our Btirring talc, 
 
 That life, bright, glorious life, is there.' 
 
 Oh! loveliest season ! joy and lhdit 
 Seem borne upon thy sunny wing; 
 
 Xo flowers, save those ofhues most bright, 
 
 Should cluster round the brow of Spring. 
 
 K
 
 130 
 
 And if the mournful heart still feels 
 That joyful voice but mocks its gloom, 
 
 Yet hope amid dejection steals, 
 
 And whispers of bright hours to come. 
 
 Why is it that such cheering power, 
 
 Such gladness, floats upon thy smile ? 
 It is thou art the childhood hour, 
 
 The youth that Nature lives awhile ; 
 And though, like man's bright vernal morn, 
 
 Too soon thy lustre fades away, 
 Yet still, like his, can ne'er return 
 
 The freshness of thine early day. 
 
 No ; Summer suns more bright may shine 
 
 O'er lovelier hues, when thine are sere, 
 And Autumn's thousand tints may twine 
 
 With gorgeous grief the dying year ; 
 But never can their fairest hours 
 
 Revive the feelings thou canst raise, 
 The freshness of thy simple flowers, 
 
 The magic of thy changeful days. 
 
 And who can gaze on this fair earth, 
 
 All rife with sights and sounds of Spring, 
 The bursting leaves, the flowers' new birth, 
 
 The joyous "birds upon the wing," 
 Nor feel that these fair things were made 
 
 To cheer man's pilgrimage below, — 
 Gently to soothe life's hours of shade, 
 
 And soften its meridian glow ?
 
 i;;i 
 
 Look forth, then, with no careless eye, 
 
 < >n all so bright beneath, above, 
 And read thou, in the Laughing sky. 
 
 A Lesson of eternal Love. 
 < Mi gaze upon the faithful year, 
 
 Bright in returning beauty shine, 
 And learn to trust the ceaseless care 
 
 Thai guides earth's changing course, and thine. 
 
 B. 
 
 May, 1839.
 
 132 
 
 LIKES. 
 
 iH^xNCE more, mine own beloved, the ray 
 Of Autumn gilds the mellow earth, 
 And brings to us again the day, 
 The blessed day, that gave Thee birth. 
 And though in every leaf I see 
 
 The warning hue of Nature's doom, 
 Yet seems this hour more bright to me, 
 Than Springtime glow or Summer bloom. 
 
 No marvel : Time's swift fleeting wing, 
 
 That bears away each circling year, 
 But seems for us fresh love to bring, — 
 
 New cause to make thee doubly dear. 
 And every pleasure, every pain, 
 
 That round our path of life may twine, 
 But closer binds affection's chain, 
 
 And makes thy joys, thy sorrows, mine. 
 
 Oh ! say, then, can I see the day 
 That gave Thee birth, return unmoved, 
 
 Nor thus for every blessing pray, 
 To crown the head of one so loved ?
 
 133 
 
 And if a sigh, a tender tear, 
 
 < lould fall upon this festal day, 
 li is i" think, another year 
 
 Of thy dear life has passed away. 
 
 Thou art in manhood's glory now ; 
 
 I will not think that time can e'er 
 Trace deepening lines on that fair brow, 
 
 Or tinge with snow that auburn hair: 
 And it' across thy morning sky, 
 
 Some chastening shadows seemed to lower, 
 Oh, cloudless may thy noontide be, 
 
 And calmly bright thine evening hour! 
 
 God bless thec, dearest! Words can say, 
 And heart chsire, with anxious love, 
 
 Xo more than those lew accents pray, 
 Of peace below and joy above. 
 
 Oh ! may J I is blessing on thee rest, 
 In every Bcene, in every hour ; — 
 
 Thr heart of her who loves thee best, 
 Can ask tor thee, can wish no more. 
 
 E. 
 
 October 6, 1839. 

 
 134 
 
 LINES. 
 
 HOU Moon, that now with melancholy grace 
 Glidest athwart the clear and wintry sky, 
 As calmly shining on the frost-bound earth, 
 As when it basked in Summer's deep repose, 
 I love to gaze upon thy queenly brow, 
 Shining, like other monarchs of this earth, 
 Surrounded by thy stars, and yet alone, 
 And feel thou art the same, the very same, 
 That first delighted childhood's upturned eye 
 And glowing heart, with visions bright as fair, 
 And seemed a world of wonders to enfold 
 Within thy glittering ring. No marvel then 
 Appeared too wild, too wondrous, to believe ; 
 And fancy peopled soon thine airy realms, 
 With beings, varied as the countless dreams 
 Of joyous infancy. For who can paint 
 The unsought pleasures of that early time, 
 AVhen every outward form that meets the eye, 
 Or sound that strikes the ear, but seems to wake 
 New springs of happiness, fresh founts of joy. 
 That gush unceasing from the exhaustlcss wells 
 Of childhood's glowing heart? But never more 
 Can ye return again, bright cloudless days ; 
 For care and pain were then alike to ye
 
 ]:;:. 
 
 Onfelt, unknown. Alas! with all, too soon 
 
 The lt«']« i'-n 1 rs of infancy are pas! : 
 
 The spotless hearl receives the world's first stain, 
 
 And learns— perchance unconsciously — 1<> feel 
 
 That Bin and sorrow ever here below 
 
 Come hand in hand. And though each passing yeai 
 
 Brings shadows, lighi at first, but deeper felt 
 
 As life mils onward, with its gathering tide 
 
 Of joys and sorrows, si ill 'tis well to feel, 
 
 The perfect bliss of childhoods morning hour 
 
 Could only shine upon a stainless mind, 
 
 A purity, which, once the world's cold breath 
 
 lias dimmed its snow, can never come again. 
 
 No : though the mighty river may Bweep on, 
 
 With all the lustre of the summer s 
 
 Reflected on the glorious mirror <»!' its breast, 
 
 Y'-i never more can those deep waters seem 
 
 To dance with murmuring gladness on their way, 
 
 Like the bright mountain Btreamlet whence they sprang- 
 
 And life's meridian tide, with placid flow, 
 
 May glide unruffled on its peaceful cour 
 But once the joyous dayspring has gone by, 
 And merry childhood's shallow Bparkling rill 
 Bas Mended with the deeper waves of time, 
 The midday sun can touch that shaded stream 
 With li\ ing light no more. 
 
 Yet would not 1. 
 With old ingratitude, thus seem to mourn. 
 As it' the hours of infancy alone 
 
 Were fraught with purest joy; for my fail- lot
 
 13G 
 
 Has been, find is, with countless blessings stored, 
 
 That every year seems showering freshly down, 
 
 As rich as undeserved. The holiest ties 
 
 That earth can know, are twining round my heart, — 
 
 The wife's, the mother's untold bliss are mine ; 
 
 And I look back upon life's glowing morn 
 
 With fond remembrance, but without a sigh, 
 
 Unless for wasted talents, misspent hours, 
 
 For many a blessing, duly valued now, 
 
 Unprized, unheeded then. And I can gaze 
 
 ( )u thee, bright watcher of the silent night ! 
 
 With feelings warm as in that early time, 
 
 Although their brightest hues perchance may seem 
 
 Subdued and softened now. The visioned dreams 
 
 That floated round thee may have passed away, 
 
 But still 'tis sweet to watch thy silver orb 
 
 Glide on in silence through the midnight sky, 
 
 And feel, that liquid lustre falls as clear 
 
 Upon the mountains of my native land, 
 
 Those scenes familiar from life's earliest dawn, 
 
 Alas ! how distant now ! and sweeter still 
 
 To think that other eyes, beloved and dear, 
 
 Though scattered wide upon the world's rough waves, 
 
 Perchance at this same moment gaze on thee ; 
 
 Perchance with swelling heart may breathe for me, 
 
 The blessing that I fondly breathe for them. 
 
 i:. 
 
 December, 1831).
 
 137 
 
 to my su:i:rix<; cniu>i:i;x. 
 
 OW calmly ye are sleeping now, 
 
 Sweel innocents, without a car''! 
 No shatle of earth on each fair brow, 
 No cloud amid the sunshine there. 
 Still free from every mortal stain, 
 
 Ye slumber like the folded flowers, 
 And only live in dreams again 
 The sinless sports of waking hours. 
 
 Oh, loveliest morn of life's brief day, 
 'Tis sweet to watch thy dawning light, 
 
 And strive to mark the firs! pale ray 
 That breaks upon the mental night ; 
 
 To guard with Pond, unceasing care, 
 The opening mind, the guileless heart, 
 
 And feel a light is kindled there, 
 
 Nbl death itself can bid depart. 
 
 And yet, as thus I fondly bend 
 
 Above each Blumbering cherub's rest, 
 Deep, anxious thoughts will ofttimes blend, 
 
 Amid the joy that thrills my breast.
 
 138 
 
 Their future lot — the woe, the weal, 
 That each in coming years may prove ; 
 
 All this a mother's heart must feel, 
 And ponder o'er with trembling love. 
 
 Our firstborn darling ! on thy head 
 
 May every blessing earth can know, 
 And Heaven can give, be richly shed, 
 
 To light and cheer thy path below : 
 And if the lot of all must shade 
 
 At last the brightness of that brow, 
 E'en when thy heart's first light is fled, 
 
 ( )h ! may it still be pure as now. 
 
 And thee, my baby boy, for thee 
 
 Arises many an anxious prayer ; 
 Man's sterner portion thine must be, 
 
 And manhood's perils thou must share. 
 But mayst thou not unworthy prove 
 
 To bear thy father's honoured name ; 
 And oh ! may God, in boundless love, 
 
 Keep thee from danger, sin, and shame. 
 
 My cherished ones, how calm, how deep 
 
 The slumber seems that binds ye now ! 
 Long may ye thus securely sleep, 
 
 Nor dream of aught but bliss below. 
 The soft closed eye, the damask cheek, 
 
 The gentle breathing scarce perceived, 
 All seem of perfect bliss to speak, 
 
 Of hearts no sorrow yet has grieved.
 
 139 
 
 God bless ye both with ceaseless lo 
 
 And keep ye in life's narrow way, 
 To ever seek those joys above 
 
 Earth cannoi give or take away ! 
 Sleep <'ii in peace, and may ye wake 
 
 With joy to greet to-morrow's Light! 
 < >nc parting look I yel mnsl take, 
 
 \ml now, my gentle ones, Good nighi ! 
 
 E. 
 February 11, 1840. 

 
 140 
 
 BIRTHDAY VERSES. 
 
 S when, some waymark reached at last, 
 
 The wanderer turns him back once more. 
 And pausing lingers o'er the past, 
 Then speeds him onward as before ; 
 E'en so, when days like this return, 
 
 We feel another stage is gone, 
 And turn with eyes that almost mourn, 
 To gaze on hours for ever flown. 
 
 Aline own beloved ! I scarce can deem 
 
 Another year has passed away, 
 So few the fleeting moments seem, 
 
 Since last I hailed thy natal day ; 
 And yet in that short space our home, 
 
 Alas ! both life and death has known 
 One precious babe to cheer us come, 
 
 One faithful friend for ever gone. 
 
 'Tis solemn thus to stand beside 
 The waymarks of our path below, 
 
 And turn to watch the living tide 
 Of joy and sorrow's ceaseless flow ;
 
 11 
 
 To feel the weight of care and sin 
 Amid earth's narrow circle! bound, — 
 
 The woe without, the grief within, 
 One little year may compass round. 
 
 Yet, dearest, as we ponder o'er 
 
 Lite's "mingled yarn" of good and ill, 
 Must we not gratefully adore 
 
 The love that has so Messed us still? 
 Yes, we indeed at least must own, 
 
 Ju pleasant lauds our lot is cast, 
 And every year thai we have known, 
 
 But adds fresh mercies to the past. 
 
 Thy natal day has come again 
 
 (in wimrs of speed, and still to me, 
 
 It Beems as if time's lengthening chain 
 But closer binds my heart to thee; 
 
 And if the Lol which all must share 
 
 Has sometimes dimmed our pathway here, 
 
 Yet I have felt no grief, no care, 
 
 Hut what thy love could soothe and cheer. 
 
 God's choicest blessings rest on thee, 
 Beloved husband ! may thy days 
 
 lie bright, and lengthened out to see 
 Thy children's children meet thy gaze. 
 
 And oh ! may we, whate'er befall. 
 
 In love unchanged and changeless dwell. 
 
 And only part, when Death shall call. 
 
 To meet where none shall breathe Farewell. 
 
 K. 
 
 Oetober 6, 1840.
 
 142 
 
 TO MY BOY 
 
 XCE more, once more, the dying year 
 Trembles beside the gulph of time ; 
 And yet how few the days appear 
 
 Since first we hailed her hour of prime ! 
 It scarcely seems one month ago 
 
 That we beheld her morn arise, 
 And thought upon the joy or woe 
 Might light or dim her future skies. 
 
 Aud now that solemn hour draws nigh, 
 
 When every heart must pause again, 
 And ponder o'er the days gone by, 
 
 The awful future's shortening spau : 
 Shadows around the past may close, 
 
 But lights are there both bright and clear, 
 Such as on this glad day arose, 
 
 To gild and cheer our pathway here. 
 
 My boy, one year has passed away 
 Since thy sweet eyes awoke on earth, 
 
 And first on this auspicious day, 
 
 With thankful joy we hailed thy birth.
 
 143 
 
 Thai year to thee, one dream of 1"'" , 
 Has passed \\ ithout a care or sin ; 
 
 ( i thai thy future Lot might prove 
 As calm without, as pure within ! 
 
 Blessings upou thai merry heart, 
 
 Thai joyous Laugh and clear blue eye ; 
 Deathls awful Bhade, and sorrow's smart, 
 
 Without a slain have passed thee by : 
 And still I trust, Id]' many a war, 
 
 No grief may dim that sunny hrow, 
 Save such as childhood's ready tear 
 
 And mingling smile betokens now. 
 
 Thy father's pride, thy mother's joy, 
 
 Bope of an ancient race art thou ; 
 And <>u thy head, my firstborn boy, 
 
 Full many a blessing centres now. 
 oh ! may thy morn of life repay 
 
 An hundredfold our anxious cares, 
 And manhood's ever brightening day 
 
 Prove thee the child <>r many prayers. 
 
 But thou, Bweet innocent, must brave 
 
 At Last the Btrife of man's career, 
 Ami stem perchance life's Btormy wave, 
 
 Afar from all who hold thee dear. 
 Alas ! too soon the world may lure 
 
 from wisdom's way thy guileless heart. 
 And dim that spirit bright and pure. 
 
 Till hope grows cold and joys depart.
 
 144 
 
 But shouldst thou sadly turn again 
 
 To hours when life was fresh and new, 
 Oh ! may thy mother's blessing then 
 
 Fall on thy heart like evening dew, 
 And o'er thy softened soul once more 
 
 Thy father's holy precepts come, 
 To win thee back from earthly war, 
 
 And melt thee with the thought of home. 
 
 Oh ! ever be as now thou art, 
 
 The beautiful, the undefiled ; 
 With guileless mind and trustful heart, 
 
 In purity at least a child. 
 And on thy heart as on thy brow, 
 
 Still may thy father's image rest, 
 To tread like him thy path below, 
 
 And live by all around thee blessed. 
 
 What blessing shall I crave for thee, 
 
 Thou child of fondest hope and love ? — 
 That God may still thy portion be, 
 
 Thy strength on earth, thy hope above. 
 And oh ! for thee, if grief and joy 
 
 Alike be touched with heavenly fire, 
 Thy mother's heart, my firstborn boy, 
 
 No more can ask, no more desire. 
 
 December 30, 1810.
 
 ] 15 
 
 THE TWO PORTRAITS. 
 
 EILE on those well-known portraits 
 round, 
 1 often gaze alone, 
 Two, 'mid ilic form* unknowD to me, 
 
 1 love to look upon. 
 
 The same fair (ace they both pourtray — 
 Both young and happy Beem ; 
 
 And oft they come upon my heart, 
 Like visions of a dream. 
 
 And yet, Long numbered with the dead, 
 Thai face 1 never know ; 
 
 I!tit still, amid familiar ones, 
 It seems familiar too. 
 
 Yes ; on thy brow, Bweel I ress ! 
 
 Full ol't I Love to gaze, 
 And mark thy lair and graceful form, 
 
 Thy -arli of other da 
 
 For thine is thai sweet, nameless spell, 
 
 Thai steals o'er evi n heart, 
 And lingers 'mid the memories 
 
 That never can depart. 
 L
 
 146 
 
 The light of peace and holy joy 
 
 Is shining on thy brow ; 
 And every speaking feature tells 
 
 That thou art happy now. 
 
 No care has dimmed thy spirit yet, 
 
 No earthly shade is nigh ; 
 Thy gentle gravity but speaks 
 
 Of holy thoughts and high. 
 
 Thy heart and hand alike are bound 
 
 In wedlock's sacred bands ; 
 And by thy side, in manly youth, 
 
 Thy happy husband stands. 
 
 All earth is full of hope to thee ; — 
 The past a dream of youth, — 
 
 The future one bright path of love, 
 Of tenderness and truth. 
 
 Xo marvel thou art happy then, — 
 
 No marvel, as I gaze, 
 That peaceful brow should seem a pledge 
 
 Of bright and lengthened days ! 
 
 Then to that other face I turn ; — 
 Thou still art young and fair, 
 
 And happy too, — and yet, mcthinks 
 A gentle change is there. 
 
 A shade of quiet though tfulness 
 
 Is on thy placid brow ; 
 As if the cares of motherhood 
 
 Were stealing o'er thee now.
 
 117 
 
 And mingling there, there seems a tinge 
 
 < >f gentle sadness too ; — 
 \"t Borrow, bnt Borne tho bat con 
 
 To soften and subdue. 
 
 Thy pensive eyes seem watching, whi 
 
 Thy happy children play ; 
 While blending with thy thoughts of them, 
 
 Come hours Long past away, 
 
 The loved, the lost, the holy dead 
 
 Aiv Bwiftly passing by, 
 And blending with the fairy forms 
 That glad thy loving eye. 
 
 I like to look ii] mn that face; 
 
 It ever seems to me 
 An image of what woman's heart 
 
 And woman's life should be: — 
 
 A loving spirit, lowly mind, 
 
 A geni le hearl and fair, 
 So filled with home, the world can find 
 
 No room to enter thi 
 
 And Buch tradii ion says weri thou : 
 
 To all around thee dear ; 
 
 Thy pious life and bounteous hand 
 Are bI ill remembered here. 
 
 Bui soon, alas! thy race was run ; 
 
 Scarce ten short years had fled 
 of thy calm wedded life, when thou 
 
 Wert numbered w ith the dead.
 
 148 
 
 Nor cloudless e'en that fleeting day ; 
 
 For thou, in those few years, 
 O'er more than one sweet infant, shed 
 
 A mother's bitterest tears : 
 
 And far away from thy loved home, 
 "Where happiest years had sped, 
 
 Thy fragile form decayed at last, 
 Thy gentle spirit fled. 
 
 And only two memorials now 
 Of all thy worth remain ; — 
 
 Thy portrait on the wall, — thy tomb, 
 In yonder holy fane. 
 
 But still, whene'er I gaze upon 
 That fair and gentle brow, 
 
 I trust, as thou wert happy then, 
 Thou art far happier now. 
 
 January 15, 1841. 
 
 E. 
 
 if
 
 MO 
 
 #^ 
 
 TEE EARVEST MOON. 
 
 HE Harvest Moon ! how silently 
 
 She glides along the sky, 
 And seems to look upon this earth 
 With calm, benignant eve ! 
 Lonely her path, hut still there shines 
 
 Fresh radiance on her brow, 
 As if she felt how many a heart 
 ]lw light rejoices now. 
 
 No star is near thee, lovely Moon ; 
 
 Yri brighter seems thy power 
 Than when a thousand round thee Bhone, 
 
 In Summer's warmest hour : 
 And still that Summer lingering seems, 
 
 Although her reign is past, 
 To pour one parting blessing forth 
 
 The brightest and the last! 
 
 I low still and calm is all around ! 
 
 No breath upon the air, 
 No jarring sound, to break the spell 
 
 < >f moonlight si illness there : 
 ( inly the BheepbelTs distant sound, 
 
 The night-breeze bears along, 
 Or wafts upon the listening ear 
 
 The reaper's homeward Bong.
 
 150 
 
 Clear seen in that deep solemn light, 
 
 Against the dark blue skies, 
 Like giant spirits of the past, 
 
 Yon ancient woods arise : 
 And on each immemorial tree, 
 
 "Whose birthtime none can know, 
 The moonlight quivers brightly now, 
 
 As centuries ago. 
 
 Yes ! changeless 'mid a changing world,- 
 
 Undimmed where all grows dim, — 
 Bright as when first from earth arose 
 
 Creation's morning hymn : 
 Beloved alike by youth and age, 
 
 The gentle and the brave, — 
 That radiance gilds man's cradled sleep, 
 
 And shines upon his grave ! 
 
 Thou pensive Moon ! as thus I gaze 
 
 Upon thy glistening brow, 
 Swift wake the dreams of other days, 
 
 And scenes far distant now. 
 Upon my native hills once more 
 
 Thou risest, young and fair ; 
 But shall I e'er behold again 
 
 Thy silver lustre there? 
 
 Alas ! I know not, — still the thought 
 
 Of many a youthful hour 
 Chines borne upon thai gentle ray, 
 
 With sad yet soothing power.
 
 151 
 
 The past, with all its light and Bhade, 
 
 - sms traced upon thy brow, 
 Blent with the calmer, pnrer beam 
 
 Thai falls around me DOW. 
 
 Moon, moon! thy melancholy smile 
 
 Has some mysterious power, 
 To wake in every breasi the thought 
 
 Of life's best, holiesl bour. 
 E'en hearts the world lias chilled and scared, 
 
 Tremble beneath thy ray, 
 With long-losi dreams of yonth and hope, 
 
 Of feeling passed away. 
 
 Till, 'mid the overwhelming calm 
 
 That hushes earth and main, 
 Tears, Bofl as childhood's, gush once more, 
 
 Like Summer's freshening rain. 
 And feelings long despised as vain — 
 
 Love, confidence, and truth — 
 Burst from their Bleep, to wring the bouI 
 
 With thoughts of home and youth ! 
 
 No marvel, then, sweel .Moon! thai hearts 
 
 Cast in a Bofter mould 
 Should read in thee sweel memories, 
 
 Dreams oi' the days of old. 
 No marvel, high and holy thoughts 
 
 Should own thy wakening power, 
 And rise to bless the Hand that gave 
 
 The moon light's gentle hour! 
 
 E. 
 
 September 2, 1841.
 
 152 
 
 
 LINES. 
 
 '• T is a morn in Autumn time, 
 A morn to me most dear, 
 Though Spring's first bloom has passed away, 
 And Summer flowers are sere. 
 
 But though the year's green youth is gone, 
 
 Yet, o'er her matron brow, 
 This one bright hour to me can shed 
 
 A lio-ht unknown till now. 
 
 'o* 
 
 And wherefore ? Dearest ! thou canst tell 
 
 Why glad should be the day 
 That first beheld thy dawn of life, 
 
 Thy being's opening ray. 
 
 For since together we have trod 
 
 Our mingled pathway here, 
 This morn has ever seemed to me 
 
 The brightest of the year. 
 
 And yet, sometimes a gentle shade 
 
 Will steal across that sky, 
 Blent of the future and the past, 
 
 Of hope and memory.
 
 1 53 
 
 For who can think without s Bigh, 
 
 < >f happy years gone past, 
 In love unchanged by grief or care, 
 
 Firmer for every Mast ! 
 
 Or ponder o'er the days to come, 
 
 Without an anxious heart, 
 That trusts for blessings, but still fears 
 
 To see some joy depart. 
 
 Yet still, my best beloved ! while thou 
 And thy dear low are mine, 
 
 This earth can never dreary seem, 
 This heart ran ne'er repine! 
 
 Dost thou not, Dearest ! feel how swift 
 
 Days serin to hurry past, 
 Till each successive year appears 
 
 More shortlived than the Last ? 
 
 For sinee the hour thai made as one. 
 Though lite ii> cares tnusl brin 
 
 Yei time has ever Beemed to me 
 To fly on Bwiftest wing. 
 
 And Imt tor those sweet little ones 
 That rising round as come, 
 
 I Bcarce could think four wedded years 
 Had elided o'er OUT home. 
 
 Bul their glad voices, soft and clear, 
 
 Their tiny footsteps' sound, 
 
 Tell that old Time is pacing on 
 llis sure though silent round.
 
 154 
 
 A thousand blessings rest on them ; 
 
 And mayst thou live to see 
 Heaven's choicest gift, thy children prove 
 
 A crown of bliss to thee ! 
 
 And thou, dear Love, more dear than e'en 
 
 Those little ones to me, 
 May every blessing God can give 
 
 Thine earthly portion be : 
 
 And every birthday find us bound 
 
 In fonder, holier love ; 
 Treading the path of duty here, 
 
 With hearts and hopes above ! 
 
 Or hber G, 1841. 
 
 -^%^# 
 
 E.
 
 1 55 
 
 SONG. 
 
 FOB THE AIB, "CATHLEEH O'MORE." 
 
 IT! tell rac, beloved one, dost thou think ol 
 
 me, 
 As in joy and in sorrow I've thought upon 
 
 thi . 
 
 With affection and faith Time never could move ? 
 Mine early Love ! 
 
 Long years have passed over, and thou art afar ; 
 Yei still unto thee my heart turns as its 3tar, 
 And in absence and doubt it still cannot rove, 
 .Mine early Love ! 
 
 Since the hour that we parted, though chequered my lot, 
 Through Bickness and Badness t've lived on the thought 
 Thai thou yet mights! return, and still faithful prose, 
 Mine early Love! 
 
 Bui if thou hast forgotten the dream of thy youth, 
 And the hear! that loved thee with Buch patience and 
 
 truth. 
 It in silence may break, bul unchanging prove, 
 ^Iy first, last Love ! 
 
 E. 
 November 3, 1841,
 
 150 
 
 SONG. 
 
 FOR THE AIR, "ROSE ! THOU ART THE SWEETEST FLOWER." 
 
 OSE ! thou art the fairest flower 
 
 lm?M3r That we have loved in childhood's hour ; 
 
 Bright in that sweet morning's prime ; 
 
 And still, in life's meridian time, 
 O'er thee thoughts of youth and Spring, 
 A wreath of gladness seem to fling : 
 Then shine, sweet Rose ! still brightly shine, 
 For hope and joy around thee twine. 
 
 Hose ! thou art pale Memory's flower ! 
 Many a bygone cheerful hour, 
 Scenes long past of joy or pain, 
 Thy mingled hues can wake again. 
 Dreams of happy years gone by 
 Arc floating on thy fragrant sigh : 
 Then shine, sweet Rose! still calmly shine, 
 Vov Memory's pensive hues are thine! 
 
 December 4, 184 1. 
 
 E.
 
 .1. 
 
 NEW TEARS SONNET. 
 
 EAPPY ami a brighi New Year to thi 
 Mine own dear Love! — aye, and full 
 
 many a one, 
 More blest than even those whose race is 
 
 run, 
 Mavsi thou in peace and Bafety live to Bee! 
 
 What cur allotted span of life may be, 
 
 God only knows; and we can only pray, 
 Thai step by step, from sin and danger free, 
 
 His Hand may Lead as on our earthly way. 
 This is a social time, a festal day, 
 
 When home-fires blaze, and kindred meel with gli 
 
 I can lull think Oil loved ones far away. 
 
 And from the bed of sickness breathe for 
 Ami those sweel babes who all our fondness share. 
 A wife's, a mother's wannest, holiest prayer! 
 
 E. 
 
 January 1, 1842.
 
 158 
 
 EVENING HYMN. 
 
 FOR A LITTLE CHILD. 
 
 LORD Most High! with humble prayer 
 A little child implores Thy care, 
 To guard me through the long dark night, 
 From every danger and affright. 
 
 Oh ! let Thy holy Angels keep 
 Their watch around me while I sleep ; 
 For nothing bad can hurt me then, 
 Till light and morning come again. 
 
 For Jesu's sake, forgive me, Lord, 
 Each rebel thought and angry word ; 
 And help me every day, to try 
 Some fault to cure, some sin to fly. 
 
 I am Thy child ! — oh, keep me still, 
 Beneath thy care, from every ill ; 
 And lead mc on as Thou seest best, 
 With Thee at last to find my rest. 
 
 B. 
 
 January 23, 1842.
 
 L59 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 BE earliest flower that comes the Spri] 
 chi 
 Thy liti le hand hath fondly brought to me, 
 My iirstborn Child! and precious as to 
 thee, 
 Bast rightly deemed the offering would appear: 
 For never Eastern gem could seem so dear 
 
 To thy I'mid Mother's heart, as that pale thii 
 Thy simple u'il't — the firstborn of the year, 
 
 And meetest tribute that thy love could bring. 
 Long may thai flower thy fitting emblem be, 
 
 My precious child! <>h. may thy folded youl 
 Behold thee blend ils spotL -• purity, 
 
 With gentle lowliness and trusting truth; 
 And ever By, as now, t" find thy res! 
 In earth's besl refuge still, — a parent's breast .' 
 
 March 1, 1842.
 
 100 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 (S^L^^E bring your portion to the world with ye, 
 
 Sweet helpless ones ! — that yearning tender- 
 ness, 
 "Which thrills parental hearts, when first 
 they bless 
 The new-born heirs of immortality ! 
 Oli ! passing strange, methinks, the mystery 
 Of that deep love a mother's bosom feels, 
 When the first feeble wail of infancy 
 
 Upon her ear in plaintive murmur steals : 
 A \ < >ice responsive wakes within her then ; 
 
 And if, perchance, her firstborn once she thought 
 \Y;is loved as none could ever be again, 
 
 Yet each in turn its own new love has brought ; 
 And though that one had seemed her heart to fill, 
 Yet room is there for all, and equal fondness still ! 
 
 E. 
 March 31, 1812.
 
 16] 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 S from her grassy uest the Bkylark springs, 
 With eager haste, surprised to sec how 
 
 soon 
 The glorious sun has reached his hour of 
 noon, 
 And sweeter e'en than at his rising sings ; 
 So, dearest, when this morn returning brio 
 
 Thai hour of brightest hope — our bridal day, — 
 1 start to think thai on time's silent wings 
 
 Five years of wedded love have passed away ! 
 And yet rejoice to feel that love still glows, 
 Willi all the fervour of its morning hours, 
 And only deepens with each cloud that throws 
 A warning shadow o'er earth's brightest bow< 
 ing the sunshine which too often Beems 
 To wither thankless hearts that ought to prize its beams. 
 
 E. 
 
 July i. L842. 
 
 M
 
 162 
 
 M CRN I N G II Y M N. 
 
 FOR A LITTLE CHILD. 
 
 LORD ! another night is past, 
 The cheerful morning come at last ; 
 And safely kept from every ill, 
 I wake in health to praise Thee still. 
 
 Thine angels have been round my bed, 
 And watched beside my sleeping head ; 
 
 let them guard me through this day, 
 And every danger ward away. 
 
 Lord, look on me Thy lowly child, 
 Oh! make me gentle, good, and mild ; 
 A guileless spirit, trusting heart, 
 And truthful tongue to me impart. 
 
 Help me to love, with honour due, 
 My father and my mother too ; 
 And all their least commands this day 
 Without a murmuring thought obey. 
 
 So when again dark night is near, 
 
 1 may lie down without a fear; 
 Breathe forth to Thee my simple prayer, 
 And sleet) in peace beneath Thy care. 
 
 E. 
 
 Earns'on, August 21, 1842.
 
 103 
 
 lilimil>.\ V SONNET. 
 
 J ) 'h 
 
 year 
 
 I M' wedded bliss boo s\\ Lftly past • 
 With every added blessing loved si ill more, 
 With every sorrow only proved more dear. 
 No marvel, that with mingling smile and !• 
 
 I greet the morning of thy natal day. 
 And vainly strive to breathe upon thine ear 
 
 The countless blessings that for thee I pray. 
 Three Loved ones too, the last a new-blown flower, 
 
 Now press around, thy fond embrace to share, 
 And hail with childish glee this joyful hour, 
 
 To them unclouded by one thought or care. 
 « > that < rod's choicest gifts on them and thee 
 May ever rest for time, and for eternity! 
 
 R. 
 
 bet C, L842.
 
 HA 
 
 GHRI S TM A S H Y M A r . 
 
 FOR A LITTLE CHILD. 
 
 [ HIS is the day when Jesus Christ 
 
 A holy Babe was horn, 
 ^ And we must greet, with thankful joy, 
 ( J£[U) The happy Christinas morn. 
 
 Fur God's own Son forsook, to-day, 
 
 The shining courts on high ; 
 For us to he a lowly Child, 
 
 To suffer, and to die. 
 
 The watching shepherds saw that night 
 
 A glory like the day, 
 And angel voices bid them seek 
 
 The stable where He lay. 
 
 And all around, the heavenly host 
 
 A holy song began, — 
 " Glory to God on high, in earth 
 
 Peace and good will to man." 
 
 Lord, make us feel with grateful love 
 
 What Thou for us hast borne, 
 And every year more fitly greet 
 
 The happy Christmas morn. 
 
 E. 
 
 December 1, 1842.
 
 
 PLANTING THE TREE. 
 
 DECEMBEB 3, L842. 
 
 j "WAS one of those Bofb, sunny days 
 This winter of) hath know i.. 
 
 WheD Autunm Lingers in the sky, 
 Though long her tints have flown 
 That we on yonder rerdant hill, 
 
 With giant I imber crowned, 
 Stood, where at Last a noble tree 
 Lay prostrate <>n the ground. 
 
 For (die, uIki oft in childhood's years 
 
 ii 
 
 Beneath its shadow played, 
 Tin- aged woodman, grey and worn, 
 
 A Bimple boon had prayed, — 
 Tl .; ere he died, his hand might plant 
 
 Another sapling there, 
 And that his master's Little cms 
 
 With him tin- task might share. 
 
 Sooth, 'twas a Lovely sight t" 
 
 Those two lair children stand, 
 And hold, with conscious prid \ the tree, 
 Each in its little hand ;
 
 166 
 
 While at their feet the grey-haired man, 
 
 Almost as happy then, 
 Threw in the fresh-tnrned earth, and felt 
 
 For that hour young again. 
 
 But deep the moral nature points 
 
 On all the things of time ; 
 Sweet babes ! ye scarce can hope to see 
 
 That sapling in its prime. 
 Yet, when the light of childhood shone 
 
 Upon that old man's brow, 
 The ancient trees around him waved 
 
 As vast and proud as now. 
 
 II is task is done ; the last green turf 
 
 Around the tree is pressed, 
 And on his work the aged man 
 
 (razes with swelling breast ; — 
 " There firm and straight it stands, my hand 
 
 Can do no more, I trow ; 
 (iod's blessing now, His sun and rain, 
 
 Alone can make it grow. 
 
 " And thou, fair boy, my master's son ! 
 
 Oh, may'st thou live to see 
 That little sapling thou hast field 
 
 A brave and shadowy tree ! 
 And should thy days be spared like mine, 
 
 Till thou art old and grey, 
 Forget not thou the aged man 
 
 Who planted it to-day."
 
 LG7 
 
 Fear not, old friend ; a scene like this 
 
 Sinks deep in childhood's heart, 
 Ami lingers 'mid the memories 
 
 Thai never can depart. 
 [f he is spared, 1 * > i » «_r after da 
 
 M;iy nil forgotten be, 
 Bnt, blenl with childhood's brightesl dreai 
 
 lie will remember thee. 
 
 i:. 
 
 December 30, 1842
 
 168 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 Y children ! as I watch from year to 
 year 
 The gradual brightening of that 
 
 T;/r , Ov/-*rw/ lilt A'vfi'v ay. 
 
 ^B^^lw*^, heaven-born ray, 
 
 "Which seems to shine in every guileless way, 
 The earnest question and believing ear, — 
 Xo marvel that I feel with anxious fear, 
 
 The charge that rests upon a mother's soul ; 
 The future weal or woe of those so dear 
 
 Seems almost placed beneath her first control, 
 To whose deep love the Church restores again, 
 
 From the baptismal fountain born anew, 
 I Jurist's little ones, with ceaseless care to train, 
 
 1 n trustful reverence and submission due, 
 To watch and strive and pray, then humbly rest, 
 Secure what Thou, Lord, shalt choose, must still be 
 best. 
 
 H. 
 
 March 19, 1843. 
 
 i^r
 
 169 
 
 GOOD FRIDA V HYMN. 
 
 FOR A LITTLE CHILD. 
 
 |£PON this Bad and Bolemi] day 
 7 The Sim of God was slain, 
 b And nailed Qpon the dreadful cross, 
 To die in Bhame and pain. 
 
 They bound with thorns His bleeding brow, 
 
 They pierced with Bpears His side; 
 They Bconrged and spit on Eim, and dared 
 
 To murk Him as lie died. 
 
 But lo! the sky grew dark as night! 
 
 Earth Bhook \\ ith sudden fear, 
 And they who watched Him trembling crii d, 
 
 The Son of God is here ! 
 
 His loved disciples on thai eve 
 
 Came weeping and forlorn, 
 And laid Him in the silent tomb, 
 
 To rest (ill Easter morn. 
 
 For ns He died, for us I [e bore 
 
 Such Borrow and such pain : 
 Lord, may Thy death be life to as, 
 
 Thy grief our endless gain ! 
 
 E. 
 
 April 11, 1843.
 
 170 
 
 FAS TEH HYMN. 
 
 FOR A LITTLE CHILD. 
 
 HE joyful day at last is come, 
 
 When Jesus rose again, 
 And burst from out the rocky tomb 
 
 Where He three clays had laiu. 
 
 They set a watch and sealed the stone, 
 
 But at the dawn of day 
 An angel of the Lord came down, 
 
 And rolled that stone away ; 
 
 And bid the women weeping there 
 Come see where He had lain, 
 
 And to His friends with haste declare 
 That Jesus lived again. 
 
 ( > Saviour! grant that while we live, 
 
 To sin we all may die ; 
 So Thou to us new life shall give, 
 
 When we in death shall lie. 
 
 April IK, 1843.
 
 171 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 I.NK own beloved, od this auspicious 
 day, 
 V'Xh When the brief circle of another year, 
 ^V, In mingled light and shadow past away. 
 Brings back the natal day of one so dear, — 
 What ean I breathe upon thy partial car, 
 
 Unless a talc oft told, luit still most true, 
 of deep affection, love that knows no fear, 
 
 And thy unchanging fondness, ever new? 
 May God still bless tine, and thou shalt be hies 
 
 May His hand ever lead thee here below, 
 In joy or grief to find in Him thy res! ; 
 
 And still, through every scene of joy or woe, 
 < >h. dearesl ! would thai I could prove to thee 
 The stay, the all in all, that thou hast been t" inc. 
 
 E. 
 
 Dover, October 6, 1843. 
 
 yl "*
 
 172 
 
 LINES. 
 
 }pE have looked onr last on the well-known 
 walls, 
 Which we may behold no more ; 
 
 At least they will wear a far other hue 
 Than for us they have worn before. 
 We have met with glee round the social board, 
 
 Where we never may meet again, 
 Though dear must those hours to memory be, 
 While life or while thought remain. 
 
 For blent with the fairest of youthful dreams 
 
 That familiar spot has been ; 
 And remembrances dear as life's young spring 
 
 Have hallowed the lowly scene. 
 The quiet hamlet, the old grey church, 
 
 E'en the forms that within it bow, 
 Are blent with the hopes of those early years, 
 
 Fulfilled, and how brightly ! now. 
 
 I>ut ye, dear friends, so long loved and well, 
 From these peaceful scenes must roam, 
 
 To seek, though the noon of life be past, 
 Another and far-off home.
 
 L73 
 
 Bui with the trues! of all farewells, 
 
 Ami best, ye shall beuce depart ; 
 The heart-warm blessing, the tearful prayer, 
 
 ( >f many a low ly heart. 
 
 And though uow ye musi leave at duty's call 
 
 The home of long-wedded years, 
 Y<i blessed be God thai ye leave it not 
 
 With widowed and orphan tears. 
 I Jut ye go with a calm and trustful In-art, 
 
 To find in another sphere 
 The same circle of holy toil and love, 
 
 The same fireside peace as here. 
 
 'Tis mournful to think of familiar scenes, 
 
 Forsaken by those so dear ; 
 Of the youthful voices, the Ian- liter's sound, 
 
 That shall echo no longer here. 
 But turn we with hope to the coming hours, 
 
 On the past lei us cease to dwell, 
 And bid ye God-speed to your future hon 
 
 As to this we now sigh farewell. 
 
 E. 
 •vary 21, 1844. 
 
 "**&&/' 
 
 '*•
 
 174 
 
 THE ABSENT GROUP. 
 
 ^fffi AM far from ye, my little ones ; I do not hear 
 
 nMe) the sound 
 
 Of your tiny voices' music, and your footsteps 
 falling round ; 
 I cannot watch the fairy forms so precious in my sight, 
 And mark their untamed eagerness, their gushing, wild 
 
 delight ; 
 Or see them at the evening hour all clustering round my 
 
 knee, 
 To breathe a prayer and warble praise with untaught 
 
 melody ; 
 And then with many a loving kiss and lingering good 
 
 night, 
 Receive their mother's blessing, and soon sink in 
 
 slumber light. 
 So T will cheer my lonely heart, and while away an 
 
 hour 
 By weaving in one wreath of song by turns each 
 
 cherished flower. 
 
 Our firstborn is a gentle girl, a child not six years old, 
 With thoughtful eyes of deepest blue, and form of 
 graceful mould ;
 
 175 
 
 Her first two summers passed away in sickness and in 
 
 pain, 
 But now — we thank His love who Bpared — she M a 
 
 with health again. 
 And in her high, expansive brow and earnesl i 
 
 appears 
 A look of serious thought fulness, almosl beyond her 
 
 years ; 
 A loving, tender hear! she hath, affections gushing o 1 
 And a mind thai gathers knowledge fast, and ever thirsts 
 
 for more. 
 Y> i merry as a bird is she. Oh! first and dearesi child, 
 God ever keep thy hearl as now, all pure and undefiled ! 
 
 Next comes the child of many hopes, in truth, a noble 
 
 boy, 
 For four short years his little life has glided on in joy ; 
 His loving eyes arc brightest blue, his face so sweel and 
 
 fair 
 Thai all his pure and kindly hearl Beems to be mirrored 
 
 there. 
 Blithe, frank, and free, he ever laughs al dangers and 
 
 at fears, 
 And yet a sight or tale of woe will melt him into tears. 
 A noble, generous bouI is his, but still bo mild and 
 
 sweet, 
 That in that little heart the land) and lion seem to 
 
 meet. 
 Oh, precious, precious hoy! many a peril thine must 
 
 be ; 
 May God be still ihv Guard and Guide, and angels 
 
 watch o'er thee.
 
 176 
 
 And next we have a darling one ; a sprite not two years 
 
 old, 
 With soft bine eyes and skin of snow, and locks of 
 
 molten gold. 
 With many a merry frolic and many a winning way, 
 She steals the hearts of all around, and smiles the live- 
 long day ; 
 A pet and plaything is she, to young and old most 
 
 dear, 
 And her silvery voice keeps ringing on, like music in 
 
 our ear. 
 Soft and loving is that little soul, if soon with anger 
 
 swelled ; 
 Yet a word or look will melt to tears, and all her wrath 
 
 is quelled. 
 My precious one ! through all thy life God keep thee as 
 
 thou art, 
 As free from every earthly stain, as pure and true of 
 
 heart. 
 
 And last of all a baby boy, upon whose fair young head 
 Eight fleeting moons have scarcely yet their silver lustre 
 
 si led ; 
 With dark blue eyes, and sweetest smile, and face so 
 
 passing fair, 
 That the germ of all most noble seems e'en now reflected 
 
 there. 
 Oli, cherished child! God grant to thee, should He thy 
 
 life allow, 
 To grow in grace as thou hast grown in health and 
 
 beauty now.
 
 17 
 
 M\ precious ones ! I can tell for which mosi love 
 
 I bear, 
 For each in turn seems dearest, each claims an equal 
 
 share. 
 Farewell, until we meel again I only can recall 
 By nighi and day your fairy forms, and pray God bl 
 
 ye all ! 
 
 E. 
 
 February 23, 1844, 
 
 K
 
 178 
 
 THE TROUBLED DREAM. 
 
 Y baby boy ! in tears thou didst awake, 
 Starting with terror from thy slumber 
 
 light, 
 And clinging to me in thv wild 
 affright, 
 Will scarcely yet be soothed or comfort take. 
 Oh ! strange it is that dreams have power to shake 
 
 With agony like this a sinless child, 
 And of this world a troubled foretaste make, 
 Where never yet its shadow hath defiled ! 
 We know that life unseen and unperceived 
 
 Is ever round us ,• spirits bright and pure, 
 And fallen dark ones. Can some such have grieved 
 
 The spotless heart he cannot yet allure ? 
 I lush ! hush thee, dearest! sleep, and we will pray 
 Good angels may be ever round thee night and day. 
 
 E. 
 
 March 20, 1811.
 
 17'.' 
 
 
 I : I 
 
 LINES. 
 
 ^USBAND, dear husband! Bince 1 first for 
 thee 
 11 Entwined a birthday wreath of poi 
 ^ And vainly strove to make weak \\<>vds 
 express 
 A wife's, n woman's, untold tenderness, 
 Five years have passed; five brief and blessed yei 
 Though nut all cloudless ; earth must still havi 
 And fondest hearts at times the shadows know, 
 That veil in mercy all most bright below. 
 But stid for us time's silent fool falls set m 
 To bring no change in pure affection's dream ; 
 No jarring chord to break the blissful sped 
 ( )!' wedded hearts thai cannot love too wi II. 
 Lifi on, its mor i isions die 
 
 Beneath the w< ight of stern reality ; 
 But nothing time can bring, no smiles or ti 
 Can touch the love of youth, the love of years. 
 And purer hopes and calmer joys are ours ; 
 
 1 s- ; ill w ith fancy's \\ ildest Bowers. 
 The cares of life lull often press on th . 
 Its lighter shadows fall at times on i 
 But, dearest, mercies rich and boundless fill 
 Our cup of life with c< iinty still,
 
 180 
 
 And every year that o'er our home has passed 
 Has brought some blessing dearer than the last. 
 Around us infant voices ring with glee, 
 A gathering group of fairy forms we see ; 
 And if fur care and anxious thoughts they call, 
 They bring their birthright, love that sweetens all. 
 Love which parental hearts alone can feel, 
 Unchilled by time, unchanged in woe or weal ; 
 And hope that, quenched alone by sin and pain, 
 Needs but one spark to light her torch again. 
 
 ( >h ! may that hope undimmed for ever be ! 
 
 God bless them all! and may'st thou live to see, 
 
 The best reward of all thy pious cares, 
 
 Each prove in turn the child of many prayers; 
 
 Each firmly walk in duty's narrow way, 
 
 And cheer with fondest love thy closing day. 
 
 And now thy natal morn proclaims how fast 
 
 Another year of manhood's prime has passed, 
 
 How shall 1 best the struggling thoughts declare 
 
 Thai throng fur utterance? All must end in prayer, 
 
 That every blessing God can give as best 
 
 For earth and heaven on thy dear head may rest; 
 
 That joy and grief alike to thee may prove 
 
 The gentle tokens of a father's Love, 
 
 And (>\vry year that- lie shall yet allow, 
 
 .May find lis joined iu heart and hand as now, 
 
 Treading with humble hope and holy fear 
 
 The path which duty points and love can cheer. 
 
 E. 
 
 October G, 1844.
 
 181 
 
 THE REPLY OF THE SHUNAMMITE WOMAN 
 
 [HRICE happy was thy life's unruffled i 
 And happier still thy calm, contented mind, 
 Which tlms around thy quief home 
 
 The all thai heari could wish or heaveu bestow ; 
 Bui seldom is it woman's Lot beloT* 
 
 At once the joys of wedded love and truth 
 To share, yet "dwell among her own." Ah no, 
 
 Far oftener must she leave the home of youth, 
 With sad though willing heart break every tie, 
 
 To join the Lot of one, than all more dear ; 
 For his loved sake 'mid strangers live and die, 
 
 < lontenl his joys to share, his griefs to chi 
 To find in one fond hearl her earthly rest, 
 And in thai holy love be satisfied and blessed. 
 
 ]■:. 
 
 Dt ember 1 1. 184 I.
 
 182 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 JJR wedding day ! how swift that sound can 
 bring 
 A tide of rushing thoughts to life again ! 
 Love, youth, and joy, sweet hopes ac- 
 complished then, 
 And all the glowing hues of life's brief Spring. 
 Eight years have passed, on swift though silent wing, 
 
 Sincu joined to part no more, on this glad day 
 We felt as if time now could never fling 
 
 < >nc passing shadow o'er our onward way. 
 Sunshine and shade akernate chequering mark 
 
 The path of all ; yet, dearest, still to me 
 Thy love can brighten all that seems most dark ; 
 
 The lot thou sharest never dim can be. 
 O that each future year in mercy given 
 May find our hearts still joined on earth, but fixed in 
 heaven ! 
 
 E. 
 
 July 4, 1845.
 
 183 
 
 TO EMMA LAURA. 
 
 AGED THBEE Yi:.\l:s. 
 
 IK )Y arl dancing on before me, 
 
 My little nappy child ; 
 While I, beneath this Bummer sky, 
 Wander on in languid luxury, 
 To dreamy thoughts beguiled. 
 
 Sweel is this " leafy month of June," 
 
 With all its glorious flowers, 
 Bui sweeter far to watch the rose 
 Thai on thy cheek unclouded glows, 
 The hue of life's besl hours 
 
 Ami brighter than the Bummer sky 
 
 Thine eyes' celestial blue, 
 Thy radiant smile and Bunny hair 
 That mantles o'er thy forehead fair, 
 
 In waves of golden hue. 
 
 Around me every leafy brake 
 
 With woodland music rings ; 
 Bui none bo Bweel as thai \\ ild lay, 
 Thy little voice the livelong day 
 For very gladness sir
 
 184 
 
 Dance on, dance on, my merry one ! 
 
 Sport through the summer hours ; 
 Life will not always thus to thee 
 One long, bright noon of sunshine be, 
 
 One path of thornless flowers. 
 
 Thy morn is only opening now ; 
 
 that through life's long clay 
 The sunlight of this early time, 
 The dewy freshness of thy prime, 
 
 Might never pass away ! 
 
 Thou hast thy mother's name, my child ; 
 
 Her anxious love for thee 
 "No better earthly wish can prove, 
 Than that thy lot of wedded love 
 
 As blessed as hers may be. 
 
 But far that future ; short the path 
 
 Thy little feet have trod. 
 We cannot trace thine onward way, 
 But only use the present day, 
 
 And leave the rest to God. 
 
 And oh ! if now the precious seed 
 
 In humble faith is cast, 
 We well may trust that sun and shower 
 Will surely bring our folded flower 
 
 To bloom in heaven at last ! 
 
 June, 18 !•">. 
 
 E.
 
 loo 
 
 soyy/rr. 
 
 &^gS>- XOTITEK Birthday! oh, how fasl each 
 
 W~M year 
 
 ^T-t-Vm" ()| wedded bliss on noiseless pinions flies! 
 ^£&3 Now doubly swift Time's waymarks 
 seem fco ris . 
 As glides away our brief sojourning here! 
 Beloved Husband ! scarcely could I deem 
 
 The day bo dear to me had come again, — 
 s,. well has thy deep love prolonged the dream 
 
 Of youth and hope : did noi our Lnfanl train 
 Another loved one bring, — another vo\ 
 
 To lisp fond greetings on thy natal day, 
 And bid our hearts with grateful warmth rejoice 
 
 In all the blessings strewed upon our way : 
 Oh thai Cod's holies! gifts on them and thee 
 Each year may richer resl '. earth needs no more for me. 
 
 October G, 1845.
 
 18G 
 
 DAILY SERVICE AT ST. PAUL'S. 
 
 jJpS**||^ITHOUT, — the roar of the unquiet 
 
 world 
 Bushes unceasing as a wintry wind ; 
 Within, — the whirl of life seems left 
 behind, 
 
 The storm is lulled, the sails awhile are furled : 
 And as a hush upon the troubled soul, 
 
 Stilling its waves, the chanted prayers ascend ; 
 Then, swelling like the mighty waters' roll, 
 
 In songs of praise commingling voices blend: 
 Oh, 'mid this scene of toil and busy strife, 
 
 Who would not gladly fly for refuge here, 
 Escape for one short hour the war of life. 
 
 And seek fresh strength to bear, — fresh hope to cheer ? 
 Alas ! how few that comfort strive to find, — 
 Bring here their griefs — and leave at least the sting- 
 behind ! 
 
 E. 
 March 23, 1840.
 
 187 
 
 LINES. 
 Y Children, for whom first these Bimple 
 
 lays 
 
 Were faltered forth in lowly at 
 praise, — 
 
 Whose infant voices <>ft at even-time 
 Warbled their strains in Bweel and Bolemn chime ; 
 If ye should haply, in long after years, 
 Behold this gifl which love alone endears, 
 \\"\\\ yc not then, with fond, regretful gaze, 
 Turn hark once more to childhood's merry da 
 So long o'erpast ? that blessed Spring of love, 
 When all was peace below and lighl above ! 
 
 And, as awakened me ry swift, recalls 
 
 These peaceful scenes, these old paternal halls, 
 
 Where well-remembered faces crowd around, 
 
 And Parents' voices blend with every sound ; 
 
 Will ye nt'i think of all our tender cares, 
 
 Our anxious thoughts for you —our ceaseless prayer.-, 
 
 And dream for one shori hum- ye feel again 
 
 A Mother's kiss — a Father's blessing then? 
 
 But oh, beloved ones ! it' through life's long day 
 Yc fain would taste of joys thai ne'er decay, 
 Beware, lesl thai besl gifl should e'er depart, 
 The fear of God, impressed on childhood's heart:
 
 188 
 
 Beware, lest Conscience, pure and bright before, 
 
 Despised too long, should raise her voice no more, 
 
 And all the tender hues of life's young day, 
 
 Before its bloom has fled, should pass away : 
 
 But now, with glad obedience, holy fear, 
 
 Begin to tread the path of duty here, — 
 
 And strive, from childhood's dawn till life grows dim, 
 
 To do God's will, and leave the rest to Him ! 
 
 So shall ye best reward our anxious cares, — 
 
 So best fulfil our hopes, our earnest prayers, — 
 
 So prove the crown for which our hearts have yearned, 
 
 A treasure lent from God, to Him with joy returned. 
 
 E. 
 
 Easter, 1840.
 
 180 
 
 LINES. 
 
 
 ^gSs^^OST thou not feel, dear Love, how ever] 
 
 day 
 Thai in cur own old home glides swift 
 
 away, 
 
 VVhate er i he appointed porl ion each musl bear, 
 Of joy or sorrow, hope or chastening care, — 
 Bui closer draws the ties which bind us here, 
 Ami makes our place of c m doubly dear ? 
 
 Yes : as we think of all the happy years 
 Spent here in love unchanged by cares and Tears, — 
 That tir.-i bright morn of all unclouded hue, — 
 
 When Life and wedded love alike were law ; 
 
 The advj ucing daw that still so calm and bright 
 
 Bui draws from passing clouds a purer light ; 
 
 The treasured memories, every hour more dear, 
 
 The future hopes w hich still must centre i 
 
 And more than all, the merry voices come, 
 
 To till our hearts, to bless our quiet home ; 
 
 We fori no spot on earth, howe\ er fair, 
 
 For us familiar charms like this can wear. 
 
 And own with grateful hearts, that every ri 
 
 Hut makes our lot more blest, our home more dear. 
 
 And thus when now the brighl October sun 
 Proclaims another year its course has run. 
 With love that strengthens as time sli] a away. 
 1 turn to greet once more thy natal day.
 
 190 
 
 And many a prayer and blessing breathe for thee, 
 
 Earth's dearest treasure, — Heaven's best gift to me ! 
 
 Another year has swiftly glided by, 
 
 And though dark clouds awhile have dimmed our sky, 
 
 Yet countless blessings, mercies ever new, 
 
 Have dropped unceasing as the morning dew ; 
 
 And love's calm sunshine, with unfailing power, 
 
 Has cheered the gloomiest day, the darkest hour : 
 
 And say, Beloved, can I now recall 
 
 Thy love unwearied, patience bearing all, 
 
 Thy tender care, thy firm but gentle hand, 
 
 That ever strives to lead but not command, 
 
 Nor feel respect, affection, deeper grown, 
 
 With every year that makes thy worth more known, 
 
 And strive with earnest heart thy toils to share, 
 
 To soothe thy griefs, and lighten every care ? 
 
 Cod's best and choicest blessings rest on thee, 
 Beloved Husband ! may'st thou live to see 
 ( )ur infant darlings thy best treasures prove, 
 Thy stay on earth, thy crown of hope above ! 
 And every year that passes o'er our home, 
 Kind it more blest — us nearer that to come, — 
 Treading through sunlit calm or stormy blast, 
 The narrow path that leads to rest at last. 
 
 Unheeded now my lyre has slumbered long, 
 And though but faint and low its wakening song, 
 Thou, dearest, wilt not scorn the faltering lay, 
 That strives to duly greet thy natal day ; 
 Thou will, accept the wild wreath wet with dew, 
 That tells of love unfeigned, of' feelings warm and true ! 
 
 E. 
 October G, 1810.
 
 L91 
 
 THE YEARS FAREWELL. 
 
 II! sad and solemn sounds thy vo 
 
 Thou old departing year ! 
 Why ring thy tones bo mournfully 
 
 Upon the listening ear ? 
 many a joyous hour was thine, 
 Bui yet thy last fare^ 
 Thy footsteps' su it': receding sound, 
 Falls like a passing-bell. 
 
 Ay, mortal ! solemn is my vo 
 
 And sad ii seems to thee ; 
 -till the echo of the | i 
 
 A nuiurnt'iil sound must be. 
 Thai tongue is mine, whose awful tone 
 
 Each human heart must hear ; 
 The voice within — stern oonscience- 
 
 The knell of every year. 
 
 Look back upon my wasted hours 
 
 No power can bring again : 
 Think, thai / i ever as it stani 
 
 My record musi remain.
 
 192 
 
 My darkest hours, ray bitterest tears, 
 
 May turn to smiles at last, — 
 But who can e'er recall again 
 
 The sins that stain the past ? 
 
 It is not happiness gone by, 
 
 It is not bitterest woes, 
 That deepest shade my fleeting hours, 
 
 Now hastening to their close. 
 The memories of the loved and lost 
 
 A gentle shadow cast, — 
 For they, ye trust, may bless the hour 
 
 That gave them peace at last. 
 
 But consciousness of powers misused, 
 
 Time lost, for ever flown, 
 The sins of thought, and word, and deed, 
 
 The best, alas ! must own ; 
 These form that spectre of the past, 
 
 Which still at times will rise, 
 These make the hours once bright and gay, 
 
 Now mournful in thine eyes. 
 
 Yet, ere for ever I depart, 
 
 My last monition hear, — 
 Gird up thy loins, arise and live 
 
 A life of faith and fear ; 
 Short is the time, and great the work 
 
 Thou must accomplish well: 
 No Avarning voice may sound again ; 
 
 Then rouse thee, and farewell. 
 
 E. 
 
 Decemlcr o\, lis 10.
 
 193 
 
 LINES FOR MUSIC. 
 
 IR( >!'<; II distant lands ['ve wandered far, 
 
 Ami basked 'neath sunny Bkies ; 
 ['ve revelled in the joyous breeze, 
 Where Alpine mountains rise : 
 Bui never throbbed my heart bo high, 
 
 W'ii h hope and gladness then, 
 
 As now, when o'er the waves I - 
 
 Those snow-white cliffs again. 
 
 Talk not of balmy southern skii -. 
 
 Bright though their hues may be; 
 For warm glad hearts and beaming eyes 
 
 Arc worth them all to me : 
 And such I know await me now . 
 
 Across that dark blue main, — 
 ( Hi. for a bird's sv. id wing to reach 
 
 Those Bnow-white cliffs again ! 
 
 For though all \\ ild with youth and joj . 
 
 ['ve loved afar to roam, 
 Y>i ofl in dreams those pleading ey< 
 
 Have gently lured me home; 
 And now at last, my heart beats high 
 
 \\ iih rapture almost pain, 
 As o'er the wa\ es I bound, to reach 
 
 Those snow-while cliffs again. 
 
 February 26, 184' 
 
 E.
 
 194 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 HE holiest name to woman's lot can fall 
 Is thine, my Mary, last and fairest child, — 
 The name of her, that " Virgin Mother 
 mild," 
 
 "Whom every age and tongue must blessed call ; 
 And her's, who meekly chose that better part, 
 Earth could not give, and could not take away ; 
 
 Who sat at Jesu's feet with lowly heart, 
 And willing ear, that listened to obey. 
 Oh, precious one ! on this thy natal day, 
 
 What better prayer can parents breathe for thee. 
 Than that through life thy brightest, best array, 
 
 A meek and quiet spirit still may be ; 
 A hear!, which high and holy faith may bless, 
 And glad obedience guide — earth's truest happiness? 
 
 E. 
 
 February 28, 1837. 
 
 & 
 
 ^?VU^ 
 
 >*• 
 
 ,
 
 195 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 X health, or when beneath the feebleness 
 ( >f recenl suffering, mind and body bow, 
 Still, dearest, would I strive alike ;is now, 
 With faltering tongue thy natal morn t<> bless; 
 And as I think of all thv tenderness, 
 
 In health or sickness, joy and grief the same. 
 And watch our dear ones fondly round thee pn ss, 
 'Thv loving smile and warm caress to claim, — 
 No marvel it' with swelling heart I pray, 
 Thai choicest blessings thine and theirs may I . 
 And bless the gracious Hand that gave to me 
 A love like thine to cheer mine onward way. 
 Oh, what were earth without that love of youth? 
 Life shows its faithfulness — Death only proves its truth. 
 
 October 6, 18 
 
 i;. 
 
 . vQa
 
 196 
 
 TO ELEANOR MARGARET. 
 
 AGED 7 WEEKS. 
 
 WEET Baby ! thou art slumbering 
 
 Upon thy mother's knee, 
 Unconscious still of all the love 
 That ceaseless girdles thee. 
 Thou know'st not yet the lips that oft 
 
 Thy soft cheek fondly press, 
 Nor all the untiring care that tends 
 Thy feeble helplessness. 
 
 I scarce know wherefore, but it seems 
 
 A solemn thing to me, 
 To watch a sleeping infant's brow, 
 
 From every passion free : 
 T<> mark the dark-fringed lids that touch 
 
 That cheek so pure and fair, 
 The soft-drawn breath, the little hands, 
 
 Folded ;is if in prayer. 
 
 Oh surely, something not of earth, 
 
 The mournful beauty seems 
 Of thai calm brow, where still undimmed 
 
 Baptismal water gleams.
 
 197 
 
 No t tan el i hal our world-stained hearts 
 
 Should almosi shrink \\ ith f 
 Ami feel a holy thing like i his, 
 
 ■ 
 
 Brings Beaven itself more near. 
 
 Ah. there ! how sweet the transient smile 
 
 Thai flits o'er lip and brow ! 
 Fain would I know, my pre 'ions one ! 
 
 The thoughts thai bless thee now. 
 < >li. who can tell what glorious sights 
 
 Such sinless eyes may see ; 
 1 l"u slight to them the veil thai shrouds 
 
 Eternal things may be 'i 
 
 'Tis said, thai village matrons deem, 
 
 A babe's unconscious 
 Behold, in dreams, its future path 
 
 Like some dim \ ision ris 
 Bui lovelier far the legend seen 
 
 < »!' mine nun mn ive isle, 
 Thai angel voices whisper near. 
 
 When sleeping infants smile. 
 
 Yes ; sweei the dream: perchance e'en now 
 
 They fan thee \\ ith their \\ b 
 While Boftly "ii thy slumbering ear 
 
 Unearthly music rinj 3. 
 Ami oh, how far more blesi i" know, 
 
 Thai in Heaven's highesi pL 
 The angels of these little on< s 
 
 Behold their Father's face.
 
 <>]i ! never may the guardian eyes 
 
 Of those bright watchers, see 
 Earth's shadows quench the living 1 
 
 That now hath dawned for thee. 
 I kiss the sign upon thy brow, 
 
 Thou treasure newly given, 
 And pray, our only thought may be 
 
 To train thee up for Heaven. 
 
 •Tit 
 
 E. 
 
 October l ; 0. Ls47.
 
 
 SONG. 
 
 '/^" !T tM\ "' ' ; "'- v ' Sl "- "' :i ' SOn " n o am ' 
 
 ■"--/7^r\ For cold i lie hearl must be 
 
 y Tliiil thrills not to thy melting voice 
 \^ ~?y With echoing harmony : 
 I cannot pour, as others do, 
 Loud praises in thine ear, 
 J can l»tn feel each melting note, 
 And thank thee w itli a tear. 
 
 There is a music in thy voii . 
 
 A mournful, dreamj tone, 
 Thai gives thee | ower to Booth* and charm, 
 
 Willi magic all thine own. 
 < )ld memories waken from their Bleep, 
 
 Sweel t noughts of all most dear, — 
 And I can only own thy spell, 
 
 And thank thee with a tear. 
 
 \'<>v though within mine own old home 
 
 Thy voice was never heard, 
 Yet dreams of youth and other days 
 
 With every note are si irred ; 
 Far distant voices sound again, 
 
 Beloved forms are near : 
 1 can but bless thy melting ton 
 
 And thank i hee u itli a tear. 
 
 K. 
 
 • ■ . 1847.
 
 200 
 
 XI) can I better close these pages, fraught 
 With dear remembrances, and many a 
 
 thought 
 Of youth and home, of bright hours passed 
 away, 
 And blessings still our own, than on this day, 
 
 < hir Wedding Day ! to wake for thee once more 
 Those "wood-notes wild" which thou hast loved of yore, 
 To let this finished volume end the same 
 
 As first it opened — with thine own loved name : 
 And worthless though these early strains may be 
 To all besides, (yet not, I trust, to thee !) 
 To fondly ask, that thou wilt hold them dear, 
 For sake of Mr, whose hand has traced them here ? 
 
 Oh! who can tell, how many a dream of youth, 
 How many a thought of tenderness and truth, 
 
 < M' glowing hopes, of life's best morning hours, — 
 The breath of Spring, — the scent of early Bowers, 
 Linger enshrined in these untutored lays, 
 
 The faithful record of those bygone days! 
 Here, early friendships live in all their truth; 
 Here, later hours reflect the glow of youth; 
 And deeper feelings, yearnings all must, feel, 
 For something more than earth can e'er reveal, 
 Here murmur like the Spirit's fluttering wings, 
 Her feeble strivings for immortal things.
 
 2ul 
 
 Our children, too ! Eere each beloved one Bhares 
 A mother's hopes, a mother's fondest prayi 
 Oh! may they, when long years have passed away, 
 Recall her love in every heart-warm lay, 
 And feel, how blesi Boe'er their lol be then, 
 A love like hers earth cannot give again. 
 
 And re than all, Beloved Husband, here 
 
 Full ofl is told the tale, bo true ■•mil dear, 
 
 < If all thy tenderness, thy constant truth, 
 Ami love, that glows as in the days of youth, 
 Qnchilled by time, unchanged by changing years, 
 Life's brightest beam, the rainbow 'mid her tears. 
 Oh, chance what may, ran my heart e'er repine, 
 While thou art spared, while that dear love is mine? 
 
 Ood's best and choicest gifts for ever rest, 
 
 Dearest, on thee and them. Blessing and blessed, 
 
 Oh, maysl thon pass along the narrow way. 
 
 That leads - though of! through cloudR— to i ndlesB daj ! 
 
 And if, whene'er thine eye may chance to gaze 
 
 < »n these brief records of departed di 
 
 A lay like tin's should soothe one careworn hour, 
 Or waken thoughts which fall with softening power 
 • Mi one warm feeling which the world hath chilled, 
 My task is dune — my fondest hope fulfilled. 
 
 E. 
 July I. 1848.
 
 202 
 
 PSALM I. 
 
 *WM^\ LEST is the man who walketh not 
 
 ft ll? KVJ^j^'m 
 
 In thoughtless sinners' ways. 
 -Nor stancleth in the ungodly's path, 
 '■^JJ Nor with the scornful stays ; 
 But in the law of God most high, 
 
 Still finds his chief delight, 
 And meditates therein by day, 
 And through the silent night. 
 
 Like some fair tree that bends with fruit, 
 
 Fed by the sparkling rill, 
 His leaf shall ne'er decay, and all 
 
 He docs shall prosper still. 
 But for the ungodly, —different far 
 
 Shall pass their fleeting day, 
 For they are like the scattered chaff 
 
 The wild wind whirls away. 
 
 Oli ! in the judgment's awful hour 
 
 The godless shall not stand, 
 Nor sinners raise their guilty heads 
 
 Amid the righteous band. 
 For all the doings of the just, 
 
 The Lord now knows before, 
 And then the way of godless men 
 
 Shall perish evermore. 
 
 January 13, 1839. 
 
 ]•;.
 
 2Uo 
 
 PSALM II. 
 
 A 
 
 V, 
 
 • II V do the heathen fiercely rage, 
 \ The people strive in vain. 
 £Ufl^ While kings and princes counsel take 
 W// A • j ; i i 1 1 > i the Lord again ? 
 Yea, 'gainst Hi> own Anointe I * >ne 
 
 'l'lic\ liii i heir proud array ; 
 lint we will burs! their firmesl bonds, 
 ^nd casi their cords aua\ . 
 
 For lie who dwells enshrined in Light, 
 
 shall laugh their rage to scorn, 
 Shall stretch Bis hand in judgraenl forth, 
 
 And cause their tribes to mourn. 
 Ilr shall Bpeak to them in His wrath, 
 
 And \»\ the cations still ; — 
 Yet have I firmly sel M \ King 
 
 l Mi Zion's holy hill. 
 
 That high decree I \\ ill declare, 
 For God hath said to Me, 
 
 Thou an mine >>iil\ Son ! this daj 
 lla\ c I begotten Tip
 
 204 
 
 Now ask, and every heathen land. 
 Earth's utmost wave-beat shore, 
 
 Is Thine. Thou shalt possess them all. 
 And reign for evermore. 
 
 Then Thou shalt place their guilty tribes 
 
 Beneath an iron sway, 
 Dissolve their impious rebel league, 
 
 And clash them all away. 
 Be wise now, therefore, ye kings, 
 
 And hear a warning voice ; 
 Yea, turn and serve the Lord with fear 
 
 And tremblingly rejoice. 
 
 <>li. kiss the Son, ere He shall come 
 
 To steep the earth in blood : 
 If He be wrath, how blest are they 
 
 Whose trust is in their God! 
 
 E. 
 
 October 9, 1832.
 
 20o 
 
 t 
 
 PS \l..\l III. 
 
 O^ ORD, how are they increased now, 
 (a- Thai flock around to trouble me ! 
 
 Many there be thai 'gains! me ris 
 &^ And say, "God has uo help for tl 
 
 Bui Thou, < > Lord, arl still to me 
 A shield from every venomed darl ; 
 
 Thou arl my glory, and "i is Thou 
 Thai liftesl up my trembling heart. 
 
 To < rod I cried \\ ith mournful voice, 
 He heard me from His holy hill : 
 
 I laid me down and Blepl in peace, 
 I woke, for He sustained me still. 
 
 I w ill no! fear ten thousand foes, 
 Thai threatening gather round nn path : 
 
 Qp, Lord, and help me, « > my God, 
 Thine arm shall smite them down in wrath. 
 
 Y<a. Thou, with Thine Almighty power, 
 llasi made the guilty nations bow ; 
 
 To Thee Balval ion bI ill belongs, 
 Thy blessing for Thy people now. 
 
 January L8, 1839. 
 
 E.
 
 206 
 
 PSALM VI. 
 
 iilflllt\ LORD, rebuke me not in wrath, 
 kMM Nor l e t Thine anger burn; 
 
 -jLS. 
 
 c&m 
 
 In pity chasten not my soul, — 
 Oh, when wilt Thou return ? 
 
 Have mercy on my trembling frame. 
 
 That well-nigh sinks with fears ; 
 Heal me, Lord, for I am sad, 
 
 And wipe away my tears. 
 
 My soul, with sin and sorrow torn. 
 Now pants to view Thy face ; 
 
 Oh, when wilt Thou, my God and King, 
 Return to me in peace? 
 
 Return, return to me, Lord, 
 
 And as Thy mercies roll, 
 Incline Thine ear — attend my cry, 
 
 And save my trembling soul. 
 
 No thought of Thee, in Death's domain. 
 
 Can pierce the dismal gloom ; 
 \o liji can hi ess Thy holy Name, 
 
 When sleeping in the tomb.
 
 2o: 
 
 N ill: groans and si y Btrength is spent, 
 
 My heart's oppressed with fears ; 
 
 from aighl to morn, my Lonely couch 
 Is watered with my tears. 
 
 Mine eye, do longer fired by joy, 
 
 Willi grief consumes away; 
 My foes oppress, and, ben< with can - 
 
 I in ad i his weary way. 
 
 Depart, depart, ye Binfu] men, 
 
 The dawn al length appears ; 
 The nighi is pasl the Lord hath heard 
 
 My mournful cries and tears. 
 
 Y<;i, lie ;il length to Hi \ rmii| il:i 1 1: t 
 
 llntli benl a listening i ar : 
 Lei all my foes dow flee away, 
 For God hath heard my prayer. 
 
 E. 
 
 . 
 
 '•-j
 
 208 
 
 PSALM VIII. 
 
 LORD, our God, through all the earth, 
 Thy Name is great alone, — 
 |j Thou, who above the heavenly host 
 Hast set Thy glorious throne. 
 
 Thou, from the mouth of helpless babes, 
 Hast strength and might ordained, 
 
 And proved to those who hate Thy jMame, 
 The power of Thy right hand. 
 
 Oh ! when my wondering eyes behold 
 
 Thy heavens on high displayed, 
 The glorious moon and gem-like stars, 
 
 Which Thy right hand hath made; 
 
 I feel with awe — oh ! what is man, 
 
 That Thou, from Heaven above, 
 Shouldst think of him, and, more than all. 
 
 Shouldst bless him with Thy love? 
 
 For Thou hast placed him next to tllOSC 
 
 Who round Thy throne adore, 
 And Thou hast crowned his helpless head, 
 With glory, strength, and power.
 
 V- a, Thou hast made him lord of all, 
 He land and Bea ; 
 
 Thi beasts of earth, the fowls of air, 
 Arc placed beneath his sway. 
 
 < » God, our God, through all the earth, 
 
 Thy holy Name's adored ; 
 Before Thy gracious feel we bow, 
 
 And own Thee King and Lord. 
 
 1:.
 
 210 
 
 PSALM XIII. 
 
 31 OW long wilt Thou forget me, Lord? 
 For ever? — oh, return ! 
 How long - wilt Thou Thy presence veil, 
 And make my spirit mourn ? 
 
 How long shall I, with daily cares 
 And sorrowing thoughts oppressed, 
 
 Behold my sad and sinking soul 
 By taunting foes distressed ? 
 
 Consider. Lord; oh, hear my prayer. 
 
 And light my gloomy path ; 
 Lest I should sink o'erwhelmed, dismayed, 
 
 And sleep the sleep of death. 
 
 Bui still my firmest trust hath been 
 
 In Thy sure mercies, Lord ; 
 And I shall yet rejoice to find 
 
 Thy love my full reward. 
 
 Oh, then I'll sing and praise His Name, 
 
 Who on my guilty head 
 His brightest beams of light and love 
 
 With endless mercy shed. 
 
 i:.
 
 PSALM XX. 
 
 fix thai dark day when Borrow co] 
 . Ij I >h, may the Lord attend thy cry, 
 .M,-i\ Jacob's God be ih\ defen :e, 
 Ami send thee help \\ hen aone is n igh. 
 
 From Zion may He give thee strength, 
 Am! call to mind thy offerings still, 
 (Irani thee in love thy lawn's desn 
 
 Ami all thy uarnirsi wish fulfil. 
 
 In Thy salvat [on we'll rejoice, 
 
 Ami proudly lift our banner high, 
 In God, wiif God's mosi holy name ; 
 
 Aial eh ! may II'' attend I 'i\ cry. 
 
 Now know 1 thai the Lord \\ ill hear, 
 Ami bless His Loved anointed one : 
 
 From heaven Be soon will stretch His hand, 
 To comforl ami uphold II is own. 
 
 Some in chariots trnsl I'm- aid, 
 Some "ii mi arm of flesh re] osi ; 
 
 Bui we'll remember 1 1 is •_ real nana'. 
 Who dashed to earth <>ur vaunting fb< ?. 
 
 They arc broughl <\>>\\ n and fallen 
 
 Bnl we are now exalted high. 
 Save, Lord ! oh, King of ' rlory, hear, 
 
 And when we I end our cry. 
 
 E. 
 Octobei l. 1832.
 
 212 
 
 PSALM XVI. 
 
 g^W AYE me, God, in Thee I trust, 
 S^gll^ My soul to Thee did say. 
 
 Thou art my Lord, my righteousness 
 Extendeth not to Thee, 
 But to the saints, who still on earth 
 
 Show forth their shining- light, 
 Yea, to the blessed, the excellent, 
 In whom is my delight. 
 
 Still sorrows shall increase to those 
 
 Who bow a willing knee 
 To earthly gods ; but I will own 
 
 No other Lord but Thee. 
 ( >h yes ! Thou art my portion still, 
 
 Along mine earthly way, 
 The joy that crowns my cup of life. 
 
 And turns my night to day. 
 
 In pleasant lands my lot is cast. 
 
 My heritage is blest; 
 And I will praise the Lord my light, 
 
 Who guides me on to rest. 
 I've set my (iod before me still. 
 
 Yea, He is ever near ; 
 And while His arm is my defence, 
 
 I shall not move or fear.
 
 213 
 
 Therefore dxj heart and soul rej< 
 
 My flesh in hope shall n 
 Thou wilt not leave my soul in hell, 
 
 With pain and gloom oppressed. 
 For canst thou let thine Holy I >ne 
 
 The grave's corruption see ? 
 < Mi ii" ! then point the path of I 
 
 Ami lead me on to Thee. 
 
 Yea, in Thy presence life is found, 
 
 There grief and pain are o er : 
 Ai Thy right hand the torch of joy 
 
 [s In i" fade lie more. 
 
 E. 
 
 0d6b& 10, 1833.
 
 2U 
 
 PSALM XX VII. 
 
 OD is to me a gladdening light, 
 
 A help when none is near ; 
 The Lord is still my strength and 
 Say, whom then shall I fear ? 
 < )h, yes, when they who hate me strove 
 
 To sink my soul in hell, 
 Thy guardian hand was there to save, 
 And smote by Thee they fell. 
 
 life, 
 
 Yea, though my foes encompass round. 
 
 My heart at peace shall be ; 
 Though troubles rise on every side. 
 
 Vet I will trust in Thee. 
 One thing alone I ash the Lord, 
 
 In His loved courts to dwell ; 
 To pass my days in serving Him. 
 
 And sec His beauty still. 
 
 Then when the hour of trouble comes, 
 His hand shall hold me last. 
 
 And hide me in His secret fane. 
 Till every danger's past.
 
 2 1 .". 
 
 lie will thcll It ;i rOClt I" Til'*. 
 
 Ami raise my head again, 
 Ami I will pour my bou! in prayer, 
 And l>irss and praise Him then. 
 
 Flear me, my God, to Thee I cry, 
 
 And when I hear thai word, 
 '• Seek ye My face," my hearl replies, 
 
 "Thy face II! seek, Lord." 
 Return, return ! oh, !"■ aol wrath, 
 
 for Thou my help has! been ; 
 Forsake me not, aor Leave me uow, 
 
 Till I Thy face have seen. 
 
 Win ii father, mother, all forsake, 
 
 Then Thou, Lord, will uphold ; 
 Teach me Thy way, make plain my path, 
 
 And lead me to Thy fold. 
 < Hi ! diil I not hope still to 
 
 Thy goodness here below, 
 Long since my fainting soul had sunk, 
 
 < Oppressed with care and woe. 
 
 \\ ail "ii the Lord ! oh, wait, 1 say. 
 
 Hi- righteous, holj will ; 
 Thm II. w ill prove thy strength and shii 
 
 Ami guard and guide thee si ill. 
 
 K 
 October G, is:;:;.
 
 216 
 
 PSALM XXVIII. 
 
 y Thee, Lord, my rock, I cry, 
 
 In silence hear me not, 
 Or I shall sadly sink like those 
 Who fall and are forgot. 
 Oh ! when I call hear Thou my voice, 
 
 And bid my sorrow cease ; 
 Yea, save me when I lift my hands 
 To Thy blest ark of peace. 
 
 And draw me not away with those 
 
 Who love the evil path ; 
 (Jive them, Lord, as they deserve, 
 
 And smite them in Thy wrath. 
 Because Thy works they ne'er regard, 
 
 Nor own Thy guiding hand, 
 Thou shalt consume them in that day. 
 
 Nor let their counsel stand. 
 
 oli, blessed be the Lord my shield, 
 For He hath heard my voice ; 
 
 I trusted Him and help hath come, 
 Therefore will I rejoice.
 
 217 
 
 Y<,i. J will Bing and praise Bis Name, 
 
 \-\<r He will ever prove 
 A light, a shield, to those who know 
 
 And feel His boundless Lo 
 
 (ih t save and bless Thy people, Lord ! 
 
 To Thee for help I Bee. 
 I »li. feed them with the Bread of Life, 
 
 And lift them op to Th< 
 
 October 1 I. 1832.
 
 218 
 
 PSALM XXXIX. 
 
 ^$f SAID that I would strictly watch, 
 And guard each passing word, 
 
 pfMS While those remain before my face, 
 Who hate Thy Name, Lord. 
 
 With silent grief I held my peace, 
 And e'en from good refrained, 
 
 Although to cease from praising Thee 
 My inmost soul was pained. 
 
 .My heart was hot, and while I mused, 
 
 The fire within me glowed ; 
 Until at length my burning thoughts 
 
 In trembling accents flowed: — 
 
 Lord, let me know mine end, and when 
 Life's Meeting span shall close, 
 
 That 1 may feel how frail I am, 
 Now bent with cares and woes. 
 
 Compared to Thee, my years are nought, 
 Mine age an empty sound ; 
 
 Yea, man when in his best estate, 
 But vanity is found.
 
 219 
 
 1 1" like a fleet ing shadow walks, 
 
 And frets himself in vain ; 
 He toils for wealth, nor knows at last, 
 
 Winn hand Bhal] reap the gain. 
 
 And now, <) Lord, what wait I for ? 
 
 Thon art my hope alone : 
 Save me from all my hopes and Pears, 
 
 And make Thy mercies known. 
 
 I bowed resigned, — the stroke was Thine, 
 I checked each murmuring thought : 
 
 Remove it now, my God, 1 sink 
 Beneath Thine hand t<> nought. 
 
 When Thou for sin dost chasten num. 
 His beauty fades away. 
 
 < Mi : surely all on earl h is vain, 
 
 And Hies like pari ing day. 
 
 < Mi. hear my cry, behold my tears, 
 
 And grant m\ fervent prayer! 
 Thou know'st I'm Inn a stranger lure. 
 As all my fathers were. 
 
 Oh! ni'' then ! restore my strength, 
 
 Before that aw ful day. 
 When I shall leavi mortal Bcenc, 
 
 And tli e awav to Thee. 
 
 i:
 
 220 
 
 PSALM XLII. 
 
 S pants the trembling hart to taste 
 Those streams she ne'er shall see, 
 
 So pants my soul for Thee, God ; 
 Yea, thirsts and longs for Thee. 
 
 When shall I come before Thy face? 
 
 For tears have been my food ; 
 And while I sadly weep they say, 
 
 Oh, where is now thy God ? 
 
 When I remember all the past, 
 
 I pour my soul to Thee ; 
 For oft they've gone, with songs of praise. 
 
 To Thy loved courts with mc. 
 
 Why art thou so cast down, my soul ? 
 
 Why feel such sad dismay ? 
 Hope still, thou yet shalt praise His Name 
 
 Who is my strength and stay. 
 
 Oh, God ! my heart is sinking fast, 
 
 But I will trust in Thee, 
 Though all Thy 'whelming billows pour 
 
 Their fiercest wrath on me.
 
 22] 
 
 Fur oh ! the Lord will love me .-till. 
 
 Ami bless and cheer my way ; 
 His love Bhal] cheer me in the night, 
 
 With joys thai ne'er decaj . 
 
 My God, Tin 'ii ;n-i my rock, my life ; 
 
 \\'li\ hasl Thoxi lefl me qow ? 
 How long must I in Badness mourn, 
 
 < Oppressed by many a foe ? 
 
 5fea, day by day they vex my soul. 
 And while beneath Thy rod 
 
 I IniniMv bow, they taunting ask. 
 Where, where is now tliv God ? 
 
 Bui win ari thou casi down, my soul ? 
 
 < Mi ! hope thou still for <rood ; 
 
 I yei shall joyful praise the Lord. 
 My life, my light, my God. 
 
 September 26, 1832. 
 
 i;.
 
 999 
 
 PSALM XLIII. 
 
 j^UDGE me, Lord, and plead my cause. 
 On Thy strong arm will I rely ; 
 Save me from those who hate Thy laws. 
 Whose hearts from truth and mercy fly, 
 
 Then art, God, my strength and stay. 
 
 Wilt Thou then cast me off' again ? 
 Wilt thou in this dark, stormy day. 
 
 Leave my sad soul to sink in pain ? 
 
 Oh ! send to me Thy truth and light, 
 To guide my steps in wisdom's way ; 
 
 To point the path to scenes more bright, 
 And lead me home at last to Thee. 
 
 Then, <> my God! with joy and praise 
 To Thy loved courts will J repair; 
 
 'I'd Thee glad songs of triumph raise, 
 And seek, () Lord, to meet Thee there 
 
 Why art thou then cast down, my soul? 
 
 Hope still, thou yet slialt praise thy Lor< 
 < I'er thee II is love shall cloudh ss roll, 
 
 And peace and joy he thy reward. 
 
 E
 
 223 
 
 PSALM XL VI. 
 
 V< »l) is cur refuge, strength, and stay, 
 In trouble's dark and Btormy day, 
 
 a A preseni help for ever near ; 
 ^ Therefore, though earth's foundations shake, 
 The ocean roar, the mountains quake, 
 < »ur liearts shall feel no trembling fear. 
 
 For "li ! there is a river si ill. 
 
 Whose peaceful streams with gladness fill 
 
 The Zion of the Lord mosi high. 
 She shall i!"i move, —her < rod is thi 
 He holds her 'neath His Bhelterin 
 
 Ami He \\ ill help her speedily. 
 
 The heathen raged, i he nal ions .-ill 
 \\ ere moved al once to race! their call. 
 
 He spake, earth's \\ rants shrank away 
 ( ih, yes ! their power we ran deride, 
 For God himself is on our side ; 
 
 The Lord of hosts is now our stay. 
 
 ('nine, then, to see His works draw near; 
 Behold earl li desolate, and fear, 
 
 For He the Lord hath made i hem all : 
 Earth's wars are silent al 1 1 is word, 
 He breaks the bow, He knaps 1 he sword, 
 
 And bids the iron chariots fall.
 
 224 
 
 Be still, and know that I am God. 
 Where'er the foot of man hath trod, 
 
 Exalted now Thy Name shall be. 
 And we will joy without a fear, 
 For oh ! the Lord himself is near ; 
 
 The God of Jacob is our stay. 
 
 E. 
 
 January 19, 183 1.
 
 PSALM LV1I. 
 
 E merciful to me, < > Lord, 
 
 .Mv hope, my trust is in Thy word ; 
 
 Beneath Thy wings I'll safely res . 
 
 Till evi n ■' and trial's past. 
 
 I [ear my voice, God mosl high ; 
 For strength and health to Thee I fly : 
 To Thee, who on my ii< Ipless head 
 Hast every gift and blessing shed. 
 
 Thou, Lord, shah Bave me \\ ith Thine arm, 
 
 Fro 11 who seek i" <!<> me harm ; 
 
 Yea. Thoa shah send Thy truth and 1<<\. 
 'I'.. light my path to realms above. 
 
 M v trembling soul, perplexed, distn 
 
 By all who hat'' Thy name oppressed, 
 Seems sinking :';.-: in sorrow 
 Ami longs t" flee away to Tlx <■. 
 
 He Thou, «> God, exalted high 
 1 1 er all \vh<» tread the gem-deeked sk\ 
 Ami tar above this world below, 
 < >h. let Thy dazzling - flow ! 
 
 Q
 
 226 
 
 My crafty foes in vain prepare 
 
 To catch my steps in folly's snare, 
 
 For in the pit they dug for me 
 
 Their crafty souls were plunged by Thee. 
 
 My heart is fixed, God, I raise 
 To Thee the song of joy and praise ; 
 Awake my glory, wake again ! 
 With harp and lute I'll join the strain. 
 
 Thy praise shall sound on every shore, 
 Thy mune shall every land adore ; 
 The song of joy from earth shall rise. 
 And fill the air and pierce the skies. 
 
 Thy boundless mercy, Lord, and love, 
 Reach far beyond the heaven above ; 
 And, changeless as the polestar's gleams. 
 Thy truth through rolling ages beams. 
 
 lk« Thou, God, exalted high 
 O'er all who tread the gem-decked sky ; 
 And far above this world of woe, 
 Oh, let Thy dazzling glories glow ! 
 
 K,
 
 227 
 
 PSALM LX. 
 
 
 vV/^SvX " (; '"'' our <i(,l!: llluU has' i" wrath 
 
 ■'('•N:^A Our hands dispersed, our leaders - 
 V ^xu : ^-*J And si I dimness o'er our path, 
 
 Bui turn Thyself to us again. 
 The earth now Bhakes beneath Thy pow< r, 
 For Thou on ii Thy wrath hast poured : 
 Beal Thou its broken wreck once m< 
 For lo : it trembles at Thy word. 
 
 Strange things Thy people now have se< n, 
 
 ( M' fear and woe a dark array ; 
 Yc;i. Thou hast made us drink the wine 
 
 < >f mingled wonder and dismay. 
 Bui unto those who fear Thy Name. 
 
 Thou hasi in power and love conveyed 
 A glorious banner girl with flame, 
 
 To be in truth's great played. 
 
 Ami now to Thee, < > God '. I cry, 
 I flee for help to Thee alom 
 
 ( Mi ! -end Th\ succour from on high, 
 To save Thine v\\u i ! one.
 
 228 
 
 Who will to Edom guide my path ? 
 
 Oh, wilt not Thou, the Lord of all ? — 
 Thou who didst east us off in wrath, 
 
 And left our guilty hosts to fall ? 
 
 He Thou our help, for iu the day 
 
 AVhen sorrow's dark and stormy wave 
 Sweeps all our fondest hopes away, 
 
 < >h ! vain the help of man to save ! 
 But through our God we still shall stand, 
 
 Nor fear our fiercest foes to meet ; 
 For He shall smite them with His hand, 
 
 And tread them down beneath His feet. 
 
 E. 
 
 October 8, 1832. 
 
 j*/-
 
 220 
 
 PSALM LXVII. 
 
 'AVE mercy on as, Lord, 
 > Ami bless as from above ; 
 ?■ < )li ! let Thy face onclouded shine, 
 AVith beams of lierhl and love. 
 
 Grant, Lord, thai all the earth 
 May \\ iili Thy lighl be blessed, 
 
 And every clime, from pole to pole, 
 In Thee find peace and rest. 
 
 Lei every nation join 
 
 I'm praise Thy holy Name, 
 And every hearl and every voice 
 
 ( Jonspire to swell the strain. 
 
 ( )li, sing for joy ! Be comes 
 ( >n earth once more to reign ; 
 
 And 'neath His sway the world shall rise 
 To life and lighl again. 
 
 Lei every aation join 
 
 To praise liis holy Name, 
 And every voice and every land 
 
 Conspire to swell the Btrain.
 
 230 
 
 Oh ! then the earth shall yield 
 
 To us her full increase, 
 And God, our God, shall bless the land 
 
 With endless joy and peace. 
 
 Yea, God shall bless, and lo ! 
 
 The darkness melt away ; 
 All nations fear His Name, and rise 
 
 To light and endless day. 
 
 E.
 
 23] 
 
 PSALM LXXVII. 
 
 ;<> God T cried with humble voice, 
 To Him my inmosl feelings poured ; 
 Yea,, when my bouI refused to hear 
 The voice of peace, I sought the Lord. 
 I thought of Him, bul still was sad, 
 
 Mv spirit sank o'erwhelmed with woe ; 
 For Thou dosl hold my waking eyes, 
 And grief forbids my words to flow. 
 
 I call to mind the days of old, 
 
 The years for ever passed away, 
 And then I commune with my heart, 
 
 And search my spirit's inmost way. 
 Will God for ever casl us off? 
 
 Will He return in 1<>\<' no more ? 
 ( 'an mercy ne'er be found again ? 
 
 And is His gracious promise o'er ? 
 
 Elai h I tod forgotten all His love ? 
 
 In anger must li is mercy fly ? 
 All no ! I humbly bow and pay, 
 
 It is mine own infirmity.
 
 232 
 
 And then I will remember still 
 
 The years of Thy right hand, Lord ; 
 
 I'll muse upon Thy handiworks, 
 Thy blessings o'er our fathers poured. 
 
 Thy way is in the sanctuary, — 
 
 Who is so great a God as Thou ? — 
 The God that doest wondrous things, 
 
 And show'st Thy strength to Israel now ? 
 For Thou with Thine almighty arm 
 
 Didst set Thy chosen people free ; 
 The sons of Jacob, blessed of old. 
 
 And Joseph, well beloved of Thee. 
 
 The waters saw Thee, Lord of all, 
 
 The waters saw in mute dismay ; 
 The depths were moved, the bursting skies 
 
 Poured forth their arrows o'er Thy way ! 
 The thunders shook yon heavens on high, 
 
 The lightnings gleamed o'er earth and main 
 This trembling world Thy presence owned. 
 
 And bowed beneath Thy feet again. 
 
 Thy way is in the trackless sea. 
 
 Thy path upon the billows' foam ; 
 \\'li;il mortal eye can trace TJiy course, 
 
 Or dare to pierce Thy mantling gloom ! 
 'Twas Thou that with a shepherd's care 
 
 Didst lead Thy chosen flock of old ; 
 Didst guide them on by Moses' hand, 
 
 And brought them safely to Thy fold. 
 
 Oriole) 12, L832. 
 
 i;.
 
 _ • > . I 
 
 PSALM LXXIX. 
 
 GOD! the heathen hosts have fillet 
 Thine heritage \\ ith woe ; 
 
 Thy holy place have they defiled, 
 Ami laid Jerusalem low : 
 
 Thy servants' lifeli ss forms are Left 
 
 To be the \ ulture's pi 
 And one bj one those Bainted foi 
 
 The \\ iM i I eai' away. 
 
 • 
 
 Their blood like water flows around 
 Those u;iHs where once they trod ; 
 
 \m friendly hand to lay their limbs 
 At resl beneath the Bod. 
 
 Yea,, now from all our neighbouring foes, 
 We b< .'ii- reproach and scorn j 
 
 Bui "li ! our God, how long, like fire, 
 Will Thy fierce ansrer burn ? 
 
 < >n heathen lands thai kno^i qoI Tl 
 Pour 1 1« »\\ ii distress and woe, 
 
 For they have wasted Jacob's bowers, 
 And laid his altars low.
 
 234 
 
 But oh ! remember not our deeds, 
 
 Our former sins forgive ; 
 Yea, in Thy tender mercy rise, 
 
 And bid us once more live. 
 
 For we are brought to depths of woe. 
 
 Yet still to Thee we pray ; 
 Then for Thy Name's sake help us, Lord, 
 
 And purge our sins away. 
 
 Oh ! wherefore should the heathen say, 
 
 " Where, Jacob, is thy Cod ? " 
 Let Him be known by vengeance now, 
 
 For all His servants' blood. 
 
 And let Thine ear, Lord, attend 
 
 The captive's trembling sigh ; 
 Stretch forth Thine arm of might, to sav.- 
 
 The victims doomed to die. 
 
 Yea, to our neighbours render now 
 
 (But sevenfold in degree) 
 The dark reproach, the impious scorn, 
 
 That They have poured on Thee. 
 
 So we Thy people, we Thy sheep, 
 
 That Thou didst lead so long, 
 Will give Thee thanks, and praise Thy Name, 
 
 In strains of endless song. 
 
 E. 
 February 0, L834.
 
 23; 
 
 PSALM XCI. 
 
 r W(L- 
 
 ■J, 
 
 Egg 
 
 p*E who beneath the guardian wing 
 L Of God mosl high can firmly cling, 
 ; ? Shall sal'r within His shadow rest ; 
 
 ;^. .(if Yea, t<> the Lnnl he still Iiin\ say, 
 
 'Hi. hi art in\' rock, ray hope, my Btay, — 
 My God, who trusts in Thee is blessed. 
 
 For surely H«' who gave thee breath 
 Will guard thee from the blasl of death, 
 
 And snares thai o'er thy pathway spread ; 
 And thon mays! real beneai h His w ii 
 For Be shall be thy covering, 
 
 His truth thy fortress, shield, and shade 
 
 Thon shall imt fear eight's gloomy powers, 
 Nor darts which strike in brighter hours : 
 
 Nut e'en that messenger of fear, 
 The pestilence which walks in eight, 
 Vet wastes as sw it't in noonday light, 
 
 Shall wring from thee one trembling tear. 
 
 For though around thee every hour, 
 Thousands may fall to rise no more, 
 Smote by the dread Avenger's Bword,
 
 236 
 
 It never shall come nigh to thee ; 
 But thou mayst calmly gaze, and see 
 The end of those who hate the Lord. 
 
 Fur oh ! because thou long hast made 
 That God, who is my shield and shade, 
 
 Thy joy, thy refuge in distress, 
 Xo evil shall thy lot o'ercast, 
 No plague shall breathe its deadly blast, 
 
 To blight thy home of blessedness. 
 
 For He will give thee to the care 
 Of angel legions bright and fair, 
 
 AVho waiting stand around His throne ; 
 And they shall safely keep thee now, 
 And bear thee in their hands, lest thou 
 
 Shouldst dash thy foot against a stone. 
 
 < >n lions thou shalt safely tread, 
 And trample on the serpent's head, 
 
 For I the Lord will guard thee still ; 
 Tea, high o'er all thy name shall be, 
 For thou hast set thy love on Me, 
 
 And known and done My holy will. 
 
 When thou shalt call, then 1 will hear ; 
 In trouble i will still be near, 
 
 To help, to save, to honour thee. 
 With length of days thou shalt he blessed, 
 And safely led to realms of rest, 
 
 There ever with thy Lord to he. 
 
 November 24, L834. 
 
 i:.
 
 PSALM XCIII. 
 
 i ->ITH power the Lord returns (<> reign, 
 jASQSSf lii glory clad, with strength arrayed 
 ? ?p~j~ A K iii'i He comi - i" earl h again, 
 
 To reign o'er all thai Be hath made. 
 
 Oh, <luil ! Thou funnels! this world to 1: 
 
 I Fnmoved by t ime in every pari ; 
 Thy throne was fixed in ages past, 
 
 Ami Thon from everlasl ine art. 
 
 The floods have raised their voice, I > Lord, 
 Ami dashed their foaming waves on high 
 Bui Thon arl mighl ier far ; Thy word 
 
 ( 'an calm the deep aud still I he sea. 
 
 Yi;i. far above all mortal power, 
 
 Thy throne is in eternity ! 
 Thy promise stands for ever sure, 
 
 Ami holiness belongs to Tlv e.
 
 ->?. 
 
 8 
 
 PSALM XCVI. 
 
 ING to the Lord a new-made song, 
 Let all the earth the strain prolong ; 
 
 Sins: to the Lord, and bless His Name ; 
 And where no beam of heavenly light 
 Has burst the gloom of heathen night, 
 His wonders and His love proclaim. 
 Oh! be His name alone adored, 
 For high and holy is the Lord. 
 
 Darkness is on the nations now, 
 
 To senseless wood and stone they bow,— 
 
 But God the heaven on high hath made ; 
 Before Him light and glory glow, 
 And in His sanctuary below, 
 
 Are strength and beauty still displayed. 
 Ye people all, your offerings bring ; 
 (iive glory to our heavenly King. 
 
 Come to His courts ; oh! eome to bless 
 And worship II im in holiness ; 
 Let nations fear Him and obey.
 
 239 
 
 >:i> to the heathen, Be shall reign, 
 The world shall pise to life again, 
 
 And rest Becure beneath His sw.w : 
 ^ ea, lie shall hid oppn Bsion cea 
 And judge the earth in righteousness. 
 
 Lcl earth be glad ! Iff Heaven rejoice ! 
 
 And ocean's cei sounding voice 
 
 Proclaim the trul h to every car ! 
 
 Lei hill ami \alc prolong the sound. 
 
 Till earth and sky with joy resound, 
 For lo : the Lord himself is near. 
 
 He comes ! lie comes to earth again .' 
 
 He comes in love and peace to reign. 
 
 September '11. 1832. 

 
 240 
 
 PSALM XCYII. 
 
 H, earth, rejoice ! ye isles, be glad ! 
 
 Jehovah reigns, and reigns alone ; 
 Though clouds and darkness veil His face. 
 Yet truth and might support His 
 throne. 
 Before Him, fire His foes consumed, 
 
 And o'er His pathway fiercely glowed ; 
 His lightning torch illumed the world, 
 Earth startled, saw, and trembling bowed. 
 
 The earth like melting wax consumed, 
 
 And at His presence lied away; 
 The heavens declare His righteousness, 
 
 And all the nations own His sway. 
 Hut they who bow to wood and stone 
 
 Shall feel the wrath that now is near; 
 The Lord is King o'er all the earth, 
 
 Oh! worship Him, ye gods, and fear! 
 
 Glad Zion's daughters sing for joy, 
 Because of all Thy judgments, Lord ; 
 
 For Thou ari now exalted high. 
 By all obeyed, by all adored.
 
 241 
 
 « )h ! ye who truly Love II la Name, 
 See that ye hate and flee from sin ; 
 
 Then Be shall keep your souls in peace, 
 From Poea w ithout and griefs within. 
 
 Lo! li'-ht is bursting through the gloom 
 
 To glad the lowly spirit's way, 
 And for the uprighi heart to pour 
 
 A joy thai ne'er shall fade away. 
 re righteous few, rejoice in Eim ! 
 
 lie trod thai thorny path before ; 
 < >h! call to mind His holim 
 
 And Mess and praise II im evermore. 
 
 1:. 
 
 September 2s. L832. 
 
 R
 
 242 
 
 PSALM X C VIII. 
 
 INGr to the Lord ! oh, raise the song ! 
 
 Great things His power hath done ; 
 His own right hand, His holy arm. 
 
 The victory hath won. 
 
 The Lord hath made His mercy known 
 
 On every distant shore, 
 And heathen lands at length have seen 
 
 His righteousness and power. 
 
 Oh, Israel ! He hath called to mind 
 His love and truth to thee ; 
 
 And every clime, from pole to pole, 
 Shall His salvation see. 
 
 Let all the earth sublimely raise 
 To Him the joyful sound, 
 
 And let the strains of triumph roll 
 The spacious earth around. 
 
 Sing to the Lord with harp and lute, 
 Oh ! raise the grateful song ; 
 
 The praises of our God and King 
 Let every voice prolong.
 
 Lei ;ill the earth, and all who dwell 
 
 Within its spacious ring, 
 ( inspire to raise their voices high, 
 
 To blesa our God and King. 
 
 He comes .' He comes to judge the world. 
 
 With righteousness and power ; 
 He r.iincs, wiih glory clad, to reign 
 
 ' >n earth for evermore. 
 
 i:. 
 
 A*A
 
 244 
 
 1 
 
 PS ALII CXII. 
 
 S§j u *P n OW blessed is he who loves the Lord, 
 m\ \k "Whose hope and trust are in His word, 
 And who with joy and holy fear 
 Can feel his God is ever near ! 
 
 His seed shall dwell on earth in peace ; 
 And e'en when all his labours cease, 
 His earnest prayers and tears may shed 
 A blessing on his children's head. 
 
 That peace which makes the bosom glow, 
 That wealth the world can never know, 
 The hope of realms of endless day, 
 Shall bless and cheer His earthly way. 
 
 And e'en when all around is gloom, 
 When every joy has found a tomb, 
 And not one ray of hope appears 
 To mark the dawn of brighter years; 
 
 Yd still a beam of heavenly Lighi 
 Can pierce the darkest shades of night, 
 And pour its radiance through the gloom. 
 To light the way-worn pilgrim home.
 
 2 1 r> 
 
 The man w ho6e hearl is fixed on hi* 
 S;ill bends to earth a pitying eye ; 
 The more his hopes of gl ow, 
 
 more his Love to mi d below. 
 
 And surely he shall ne'er 1"- moved, 
 Who while on earth of God was loved ; 
 And many a tear for him shall flow, 
 When in the grave he's sleeping Low. 
 
 No dread of evil tidings near 
 <'nn move his Bonl with trembling fear ; 
 His hearl is fixed, — God's love he k lo 
 om whom all peace and comfort flows. 
 
 And oh ! his peace Bhal] si ill remain, 
 When these who viewed his joy with pain, 
 And all who hate Thy name, <> Lord, 
 Shall melt like - -wreaths at Thy word. 
 
 r.. 
 
 .' 
 
 • 
 
 . i
 
 240 
 
 PSALM CXXIIL 
 
 NTO the hills I lift mine eyes, 
 From thence to look for aid ; 
 
 From Him alone my help shall come, 
 Who heaven and earth has made. 
 
 He shall not let thy footsteps stray, 
 But still thy soul shall keep ; 
 
 The Guard of Israel's watchful eye 
 ( 'an ne'er be closed in sleep. 
 
 For God, the Lord, is He whose hand 
 Shall be thy shield and shade; 
 
 No sun by day, nor moon by night, 
 Can touch thy guarded head. 
 
 Oh yes; from all that's evil here, 
 From sin, and pain, and care, 
 
 The Lord shall safely keep thy soul, 
 Aud all thy sorrows bear. 
 
 Thy going out and coming in, 
 Our God shall still watch o'er, 
 
 And guide thee on from this time forth, 
 Via, e'en for evermore. 
 
 E. 
 
 September 29, L832.
 
 PSALM CXXVI. 
 
 V, -'^c/^'-CTrMI KX from the distant heathea land 
 \wP3 . 
 
 
 The Lord led Zion home, 
 Tuns to her sons like some fair dream 
 < >f blessings yel to com< . 
 
 Oh, then onr lips with triumph raised 
 
 To Beavi n the grateful Btrain, 
 While every thankful voice prolonged 
 
 The joyful sound again. 
 
 Ami when <mr baffled, vanquished fi i 8, 
 
 Beheld His conquering Bword, 
 Upon His work they gazed with aw< . 
 
 And cri( d, - It is the Lord!" 
 
 Vi;i, 'tis the Lord ! His mighty arm 
 
 Great things for as hath done, 
 And for all these our blessings hi 
 
 We praise Bis Name alone. 
 
 And now return once mori . < > Lord, 
 
 And like tin- sweeping wave 
 That rolls along the southern plains, 
 
 Stretch forth thine arm and Bave.
 
 24S 
 
 Then, though we sadly sow in tears 
 
 Along this weary way, 
 We'll reap the fruits of purest joy, 
 
 In brighter worlds of clay. 
 
 For He who bears the precious seed, 
 Though now forlorn he roam, 
 
 Will come again with joyful steps, 
 And bring his harvest home. 
 
 E. 
 
 Augusts, 1830.
 
 iT.i 
 
 PSALM CXXX. 
 
 lEkff ROil the deep swelling m 
 
 i&l'i J I If sorrow's stormy si 
 
 IPS To Thee, my God and King, I cry, 
 
 y. Oli, hear and answer me. 
 
 Lord, hear my mournful cry, 
 
 And Lei Thy Listening car 
 Attend the voice of my complaint, 
 
 And grant nrj fervent prayer. 
 
 [f Thou Bhouldst Btrictly mark 
 
 The erring sinner's way, 
 W'lm could abide Thy piercing glance ? 
 
 Oh, who could stand Thy day ? 
 
 Bui mercy's pardoning vo 
 Willi Thee, Lord, is found ; 
 
 And contrite sinners hear Thy Love, 
 And tremble at the sound. 
 
 And so my anxious soul 
 
 I loth wail for Thee, 1 1 Lord ; 
 
 My trust is in Thy promise Bure, 
 My hope is in Thy word.
 
 250 
 
 Aye, more than those who watch 
 For morning's earliest ray, 
 
 And long to catch her first pale beam, 
 So waits my soul for Thee. 
 
 Oh, Israel, trust in God, 
 With Him is mercy found; 
 
 With Him thy full redemption rests, 
 To heal each smarting wound. 
 
 He will redeem thy soul 
 
 From every sin and woe; 
 And every humble, contrite heart, 
 
 His truth and love shall know. 
 
 E.
 
 51 
 
 PS I /.M GXXXVIL 
 
 Y the waters of Babylon wearied we lay, 
 Amidst us how many ;i sorrowful breasi ! 
 ror we Badly remembered our homes far away, 
 Yea, we wept when we though! upon Zion 
 the blest. 
 
 Our harps, whose loved tones of Bofl melody gave 
 A voice to our joy in those lovelies! bowi 
 
 We hung on the willows thai wepl o'er the wave, 
 A.a if in Bofl pity I'm- sorrow like ours. 
 
 Bui (In' foes who oppressed us in bondage and fear, 
 Asked music and mirth of :i heart-broken band, 
 
 And they who had torn us from all we held dear, 
 Cried, -sin-- us a song <>!' your beautiful land:" 
 
 But oh, how shall we pour forth Thy melody, Lord, 
 In :i land whi and bondmen we roam ; 
 
 < Mi. Imw shall we here wake the echoing chord, 
 Which bo often has gladdened our own happy hoi ' 
 
 If I e'er Bhould forgel thee, <> Zion, bi loved, 
 Lei my hand never sweep the brighl harpstrings again; 
 
 Lei my tongue res! forever in silence unmoved, 
 If I love Thee nol more than all earth can contain.
 
 252 
 
 But remember the children of Edom, Lord, 
 In Thy once-loved Jerusalem's stormiest day, 
 
 How they dashed down her bulwarks with fire and with 
 sword, 
 And shouted, "Sweep all her foundations away!'-' 
 
 Oli, daughter of Babylon, yet thou shalt see 
 A day of destruction, of anguish, and gloom ; 
 
 And thrice happy the man who shall pour upon Thee 
 A lot like our own, a more terrible doom. 
 
 Yea, happy the man, when thy last hour is come, 
 And the clouds of dark horror are gathering around, 
 
 Who shall bear off thy babes from thy desolate home, 
 And dash them in pieces against the cold ground. 
 
 October 22, 1832.
 
 :.> ■ 
 
 PSALM ' XXXIX. 
 
 i^4d 
 
 EEOTJ, Lord, hi rched and known my 
 
 ways, 
 M ine inmosl feelinj I Thy gaze; 
 
 Thy pn - .ill my path enfolds, 
 Each thought and word Thine eye beholds. 
 
 AIhivc. below, yea, ah 1 around, 
 I feel Thy hand — Thou still arl found, 
 Such \\ isdom soars too high for me : 
 What mortal though! can compass Th 
 
 < Mi, where Bhall I Thy presence fly, 
 Oh, where escape Thy searching eye: 
 In Heaven above— in Hell below, 
 Wliere'er I turn to, there arl Thou. 
 
 Yes, if "ii Morning's dewy \\ ing -. 
 
 W'iih rapid flight my 
 
 i >'<t ocean's utmost bounds t<> dwell, 
 
 Thy right hand guides and guards me still. 
 
 And if I say, Night's darkest hour 
 Shall shield me from Tin search wer, 
 
 Ah, do ! for thi ii it turns to Light, 
 And shows me still beneath Thy sight.
 
 254 
 
 Yea, darkness liideth not from Thee, 
 But bright as noon's refulgent ray, 
 To Thee the shadowy midnight glows, 
 And every thought and action shows. 
 
 Lord, I will praise Thy holy Name, 
 For strange and fearful is my frame ; 
 Wondrous in all Thy works art Thou, 
 As well this grateful heart doth know. 
 
 Long ere I saw the light of day, 
 Thine eye could trace mine earthly way ; 
 God, how precious is each thought 
 To me, with all Thy mercies fraught! 
 
 How great their sum! no tongue can couut 
 The drops which flow from that pure fount ; 
 More than the sands which bound the sea: 
 When I awake I'm still with Thee. 
 
 Thou wilt, Lord, the wicked slay, — 
 Ye sinful men, away, away ! 
 They dare to speak against Thy Name, 
 And e'en Thy holy word defame. 
 
 Do not I hate those impious bauds 
 Who hate Thy holy, just commands? 
 Do not I grieve to sec them rise, 
 As though they were mine enemies? 
 
 Search me, Cod, and know my heart, 
 Oh, try each inmost thought apart, 
 And see if evil dwells in me, 
 And lead me in the way to Thee. 
 
 August, 1831. 
 
 E.
 
 ...I 
 
 PSALM CXLIII. 
 
 |^EAB my humble, fervent prayer, 
 Give ear, my God most high, 
 . \inl in Thy faithful righteous) 
 Xj ( Hi, hearken to my cvy •. 
 But cuter not in judgment, Lord, 
 For who could meei with Thee? 
 Oh, who in Thy most holy Bighi 
 < !ould Btand, and guiltless be ! 
 
 The foe of man hath grieved my bouI, 
 
 Ami filled my hearl \\ ith ffloom; 
 lie long hath made me dwell in night. 
 
 Like thai u hich wraps the tomb. 
 Therefore my Binking spirit mourns, 
 
 .M\ couch with ifiirs I w« i ; 
 My hear! \\ ii h Badness seems oppressed, 
 
 And 1 am di 
 
 I call to mind the days of old, 
 The years for ever flown; 
 
 I muse npon Thy handiworks, 
 < »:i all that Thou hasl done :
 
 25 G 
 
 Then unto Thee I lift mine hands, 
 
 For in this barren wa£t£ 
 My heart and spirit thirst for Thee, 
 
 And long Thy love to taste. 
 
 Hear me, Lord, for I am sad, 
 
 My heart is vexed sore ; 
 Save me, or I shall sink like those 
 
 Who sleep to wake no more. 
 At early morn let me again 
 
 Thy love and mercy see ; 
 Oh, point the path that I should tread, 
 
 And lift my soul to Thee. 
 
 Hide me beneath Thy sheltering wing, 
 
 To Thee for help I come ; 
 Teach me to do Thy will, God, 
 
 And lead me safely home. 
 Oh, let Thy Spirit's quickening beam 
 
 Now pour its brightest ray, 
 Shed life and light upon my soul, 
 
 And srild mine onward way. 
 
 E. 
 
 October 5, In::: 
 
 ! &M>
 
 -J. -»7 
 
 .\ [COLAS TOKE. 
 
 FEOM HIS Mosr AJFFECTIONATE Wl I 
 
 'p>AlK spreads the unstained page before me 
 
 \i$ No thought recorded sunns its nrgin snow, 
 \ No dream of hope, no memory warm and 
 
 dear, 
 Eas yel awoke to find a being h< re, — 
 lint ;ill lies passive, (ill the magic mind 
 Bids the blank page a living utterance find. 
 
 Ami say, what untried music, what new then 
 T<> grace the opening volume besl may Bei ra, 
 Ami o'er its firsl lopefu] radiano . — 
 
 ( »h ! who can tell if ever reached i! 
 Nay, Dearest, qo nevi theme, no untried straii 
 Shall be the firsl to wake my harp again; 
 Bui thy loved name the key-note still must be, 
 To touch the slumbering chords of harmoi 
 Ami all the varied notes thai round it rii 
 Must mingle still w ith that one mac 
 
 The hues of Autumn, deepening round its fast. 
 Proclaim that now the warm bright days are i . 
 
 s
 
 256 
 
 And every paling leaf an,d fading flower, 
 
 Tells of the coming blast, the wintry hour ; 
 
 But still a summer gladness seems the while, 
 
 On this bright hour to shed a transient smile, 
 
 And all — at least to me — looks blithe and gay, 
 
 To greet the morn of this, thy natal day ! 
 
 Dearest, since first with falt'ring tongue I strove 
 
 To twine for thee a simple lay of love, 
 
 How many a year o'er our old home has passed, 
 
 Each borne on swifter pinions than the last ! 
 
 How many a change has marked with varied hue 
 
 Our lot in all — save love still warm and true ! 
 
 Yes ; hand in hand and heart in heart entwined. 
 
 We strive 'mid chance and change, true peace to find, 
 
 And though each year its cares and sorrows brings, 
 
 Yet mercies drop unceasing from its wings, 
 
 And we with grateful hearts, whate'er befall, 
 
 .Must bless the Gracious Hand that gives us all. 
 
 Beloved Husband! take once more from me 
 The only gift that I can bring to thee ; — 
 Dec]), heartfelt blessings, many an earnest prayer, 
 That God may keep thee still with ceaseless care, 
 Shield thee, and those so dear, from every ill, 
 And he in life and death thy refuge still ; 
 Till all our kindred group, earth's perils past, 
 A band uubroken, meet in Heaven at la 
 
 E. 
 
 October G, 1848.
 
 259 
 
 LINES. 
 
 k & 
 
 II ! would thai thou weri here, my love, 
 To sit od this grey stone, 
 "f I And gaze on all the pleasanl sa i 
 II ill. vale, and heathery down ! 
 Ami would thai all our Little oni 
 
 Were racing o'er the lea, 
 Drinking the pure elastic air, 
 And Bhouting in their glee! 
 
 < >h, fairer then than eveu now, 
 
 Would all around me seem, 
 And brighter far would be earth's - 
 
 Beneatb the summer beam. 
 Bui vain the \\ ish,- so I will resl 
 
 Once more ou this grey Btone, 
 And think of thee, and strive to feel 
 
 Thai 1 am nol alone. 
 
 Ay. fair and bright, and peaceful to< 
 
 Is all thai meets the eyi . 
 The rich green woods, the emerald turf, 
 
 The glow in'_ r summer Bky :
 
 260 
 
 Before me spreads a wild expanse, 
 
 Dark heath and woody glen, 
 But all around peep gaily forth, 
 
 The haunts and homes of men. 
 
 Up starts the lark beneath my feet, 
 
 And like a sound of Spring, 
 The cuckoo, with her ceaseless note, 
 
 Flies past on heavy wing : 
 The swallow twittering;, whirls around, 
 
 And every living voice 
 Seems, with one hymn of praise, to bid 
 
 Each weary heart rejoice. 
 
 How does a scene like this awake 
 
 The glow of early years ! 
 And dreams of youth return again, 
 
 With all their smiles and tears. 
 The cares, the shades of life depart, 
 
 Love, peace, and truth remain ; 
 And sunshine, clear as childhood's, rests 
 
 Upon the heart again. 
 
 Oh that thou wert but here, my love, 
 
 To sit beside me now! 
 Oh that the breeze, which fans my cheek, 
 
 ( lould breathe upon thy brow ! 
 Fain would I ask thai gentle wind. 
 
 Love's messenger to be, 
 And waft the blessings that 1 breathe, 
 
 To all so dear to me. 
 
 E. 
 Tunbridge Wells, June 4, L849.
 
 2G1 
 
 LINES. 
 
 [HE noon of Autumn now with chi 
 mirth 
 Falls brighi and si ill upon the teeming earth 
 Withal] thai placid calm, thai tranquil glow, 
 The evening of the year alone can know ; 
 For though the Spring's fresh gladness has gone by, 
 And Summer radiance lights no more the sky. 
 Yet, 'mid the wreck of glories passed away, 
 Still brightly fades the year's declining day, 
 A ii«l o'er ber evening hour that charm is shed, 
 All own s.> sweet, all mourn so quickly fled. 
 
 Dost thou not, Dearest, feel the soothing power, 
 The holy calm thai rests upon this hour? 
 Meel emblem, as I trust it long may prove, 
 1 If thai united lot, thai path of l< 
 We now have trod together many a year, 
 Through shade and Bunshine, - of varied 
 
 Of anxious cares, of pleasures pure and brighi 
 A.s this world •■an bestow, — the joys thai lighl 
 A happy home, where love and concord dwell. 
 And every dear one sen! the Laud to swell.
 
 262 
 
 Of kindred, hearts, but adds another tie 
 To those strong links, that bind our destiny 
 In happiest bands ; and as we gaze the while 
 On each fair face that lights with loving smile 
 Our own old home, still purer, deeper flows 
 Affection's welling fount, still stronger grows 
 The holy bond, that knits with cords of love 
 Our hearts on earth, and oh! we trust, above. 
 
 And on this day, the day of all most dear, 
 
 That tells of thy dear life another year 
 
 Has passed in peace, Dearest, wilt thou once more 
 
 Receive the tribute offered oft before, — • 
 
 Of warm affection, love that only grows 
 
 The deeper, as time's onward current flows ; 
 
 And earnest prayers, that ever on thy head 
 
 Heaven's best and choicest blessings may be shed ; 
 
 That, 'mid the clouds which shade earth's darkening eye, 
 
 The restless waves that round her bulwarks heave 
 
 With gathering might, God's guiding hand may still 
 
 Shield thy loved head from every touch of ill; 
 
 Guard thee in sunshine, guide thee through the night, 
 
 Ami lead thee on, with His unfading light, 
 
 Till thou, and all so dear, earth's perils o'er, 
 
 May meet before His throne, t<> part no more. 
 
 E. 
 
 October 6. 1849.
 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 !l! doubly hallowed was thy natal morn, 
 My precious babe! the day for ever b] 
 Which God himself hath Banctified ; 
 n - 
 
 For weary hearts with toil and trouble worn; 
 And mi thai day, the angel's Bhado^ ing \ 
 
 Bade Judah's holy Maid prepan 
 Mother of Eim, who, though the King of kin 
 took ilir form of man, for man to die. 
 Oh, d' child, "ii nil thy path "I' Li 
 
 May ill" calm gladness of a Sabbath (!.-i\ 
 Be ever shed; and in this world of strife, 
 thine, with low ly faith to say, 
 Like her of old, " Behold thy handmaid, Lord; 
 •• lie ii to me according t<> Thy word." 
 
 E. 
 March 25, I860.
 
 264 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 ,<^|5ip\ H ! gently breathe upon my langnicl brow, 
 W&jm& A Revivin g breeze ! the breath of early Spring ; 
 Her coming gladness floats upon thy wing, 
 With sweet though distant fragrance ; sweet- 
 est now, 
 When through this feeble frame, the genial glow 
 
 Of health returning seems new life to shed, 
 And wake in every pulse the happier flow 
 
 Of early years, and days for ever fled. 
 Oh, voices of the past! ye lingering dwell 
 'Mid songs of birds, and scents of vernal flowers : 
 The sights, the sounds, I long have loved so well, 
 
 All waft me back to childhood's golden hours, — 
 Yet blend with grateful praise for peace and truth, 
 And holiest joys that now have crowned the hopes of 
 youth. 
 
 E. 
 
 April 11, 1850.
 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 [10V envies! the gifi of poesy, — 
 
 Ami 'tis a glorious power, to bear aloi 
 The hearts of thousands on the tide of soi 
 04s» To rouse the bondman and enchain the fir 
 And rare as genius such as this may be, 
 
 Y> t many a spirit of far gentler mould, 
 Thrills with that mystic inborn melody, 
 
 Which tuneful numbers can alone unfold. 
 Bui all earth's brightest gifts have their alloy; 
 And minds refined and sensitive, thai glow 
 Responsive to the Lightesl touch of jo . 
 
 Yet feel the keener every breeze, and bow 
 Where firmer spirits shrink not. Well if years 
 Bring calmer, holier thoughts, to still both hopes and 
 
 fears. 
 
 i;. 
 
 Ipril 20, 1850.
 
 266 
 
 LINES. 
 
 RIGHT shine the dewdrops at the dawning 
 hour, 
 Sparkling with light each leaf and blade 
 appears ; 
 
 The sun ariseth, soon from bud and flower 
 Passeth the magic of those early tears: 
 Though, with its genial power, 
 Fast falleth the soft shower, 
 Or the fierce thunder torrent bursteth o'er the plain, 
 Yet the bright tear-gemmed smile, 
 That decked the morn awhile, 
 Through the long summer's day, can never come again. 
 
 And in life's dawn, though soon the tear may fall, 
 
 Yet Heaven's own sunshine sparkleth on its dew ; 
 No after hours can drops like those recall, 
 No time the freshness of that morn renew: 
 Soon with the coming years 
 Shall rain the heavy tears 
 Of grief and disappointment, penitence and pain, 
 Yet blessed if they leave 
 A calm and tranquil eve, 
 A sun that setteth here, to rise more bright again. 
 
 E. 
 September 9, L850.
 
 267 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 WELCOME, grave Autumn! thouj 
 fading flowers, 
 And Leaves of sadder hue, all Beem to 
 tell 
 Thai Summer now has breathed her long farewell. 
 Zel Bweel to me thy still and tranquil hours; 
 For wit 1 1 them still returns the joyful day 
 Thai gave to earth my chiefesl blessing here, 
 The loved of youth,— the Eusband, doubly dear, 
 With every year thai glides ti o fasl away. 
 For now, mine own! with all thy presenl Love 
 A thousand memories true and ti nder blend, 
 A thousand hopes their buoyanl \\ in ad, 
 
 I'm Lighten sorrows all on earth musl proi 
 Oh, Dearest! may God's blessing be our portion hi 
 Then come whal may, our path musl still be Bure and 
 clear. 
 
 E. 
 
 October 6, L850.
 
 2G8 
 
 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 EIGHT dawns the Christmas morn; yon clear, 
 cold sky 
 Spreads o'er the earth a cloudless canopy; 
 All Nature smiles, and e'en her sternest hour. 
 Her deep mid-winter, feels the genial power 
 Of that glad day, when first the strain began, 
 " Glory to God on high, and peace to man." 
 
 Oh, blessed season ! how thy welcome calm 
 
 Falls on the hurrying, restless world, like balm! 
 
 It seems a foretaste of a holier clime, 
 
 A ] >ause amid the ceaseless whirl of time, 
 
 When all may gird them for another year, 
 
 And find fresh strength to bear, fresh hope to cheer. 
 
 E'en 'mid the crowded city's loud turmoil, 
 
 Its busy crowds and round of endless toil, 
 
 A welcome shadow in a weary land 
 
 Thy coming seems. To thee the hardy band 
 
 Of labour's sons, in every varied sphere, 
 
 Look forward through the long and weary year, 
 
 And hail thy welcome morn, with hearts that seem 
 
 To drink fresh youth beneath thy wintry beam, 
 
 And in the joyous music of thy chimes, 
 
 Forget past cares, and hope for better times.
 
 
 But, 'mid the thoughts of high and holy thinj 
 
 The sacred memories which this 
 
 ll<>\\ clear again before the mental • 
 
 Rise Long-pasl scenes, and happy days gone by! 
 
 II<>\\ swiftly crowd upon our hearts again, 
 
 Kind I'd I and friends w\ iel together then! 
 
 \< 3, nil are there ; —familiar faces 'Mine 
 To (ill with life our childhood's happy home, 
 And well-known voices ring upon the ear, 
 Wnose blended tones earth ne'er again may hear. 
 Those once ''lose bands are broken : never more 
 Shall meel below, thai group who mel of yo 
 No more shall mingle round the Christmas blaze, 
 The Laughing voices of those merry days. 
 < >h, never more! some fill their quiet grav 
 And all, wide scattered on the world's rough wi 
 Share in i he common lot of toil and Btrife, 
 And bravely battle 'mid the war of life ; 
 Yet turn perchance like i I his glad day, 
 
 To Long-pasl years, and loved ones far away. 
 And. 'mid the mirth around them, breathe a Bigh 
 < >'er hopes departed, and bright dreams gone by, 
 
 Y> ; think doI that we murmur; If those dreams 
 Of morn have vanished, vet ilic midday beams 
 
 » 
 
 Fall bright and calm around us; other li 
 Far dearer, closer,— • I char i I 
 
 Entwine our heart of hearts, and bind us h< 
 With all the purest joys that make life dear. 
 Our loved ones cluster round us. and once moi 
 We see renewed in them our days of yore;
 
 270 
 
 Their merry voices, that so blithely ring, 
 Sound like the echo of our own brief Spring: 
 And as, with heart-warm blessing, fond caress, 
 On this glad morn each upturned brow we press, 
 We feel, whatever cares disturb us now, 
 Yet, blessed, happy is our lot below: 
 And pray, that every Christmas yet to come, 
 May dawn as bright upon our peaceful home. 
 And find us wiser, better, far more meet 
 With holy joy this sacred morn to greet: 
 Thankful and glad to feel, with every closing year. 
 Our earthly lot more blest, — our Heavenly Home more 
 near. 
 
 E. 
 Christmas, L850.
 
 271 
 
 LINES. 
 
 Y love, I broughl no wreal h of song, 
 
 Thy las! birthmorn to cheer, 
 For tin my hear! there seemed to n si 
 A weigh! of anxious fear: 
 I dared not, ere i he day was come, 
 
 Speak of its J"\ 3 to I 
 
 Y- ! feel, perhaps thai morrow's morn 
 M ighl never 'lawn for n 
 
 Bui qow, \\ hen God, all-merciful, 
 
 Has Bpared my life once more, 
 And with fresh hope and gladness made 
 
 Our flip of j",\ run o'er, - 
 Fain would i nil how gratefully 
 
 I feel thy constant love, 
 Which seems, \\ itli eveary ir\ ing hour, 
 
 More deep, more true i<> prove. 
 
 Yes, Dearest, if in early days, 
 \\ hen yonth ami hope were ours, 
 
 Thy warm affection Beemed the sun 
 That gladdened earth's besl flovi
 
 272 
 
 Far dearer has that love become 
 
 With life's advancing years, 
 Still brighter shines with every cloud, 
 
 That sunlight on its tears. 
 
 Together we have journeyed on 
 
 For many a happy year, — 
 Together passed through light and shade, 
 
 'Mid scenes of varied cheer; 
 And surely 'tis God's choicest gift, 
 
 When heart with heart thus shares, — 
 Rejoicing, doubles all our joys. 
 
 And lightens half our cares. 
 
 And cares there are, — those precious oues, 
 
 Whose merry voices ring 
 Around us now, full many an hour 
 
 Of anxious thought must bring : 
 But we will still receive them all 
 
 As blessings from above, 
 And trust they may, in future years, 
 
 Our truest blessings prove. 
 
 And when upon our onward path 
 
 Clouds may their shadows cast, — 
 Then lei us turn, and Loot upon 
 
 The iiw ivies of the past; 
 And pray, whatever storms may break 
 
 Our noon of life's repose, 
 That at the last, our evening hour 
 
 In holiest calm may close. 
 
 ] 
 
 December 1, 1851.
 
 
 BIRTHDA ) HYMN. 
 
 FOB A LITTLE cilll.h. 
 
 < >-I>A V another happy year ■ 
 Of my young life is past ; 
 
 The morn to child] d's heart so dear,- 
 
 M\ birthday, comes at last. 
 
 Fond parents me their darling bl 
 
 Upon this joyful day, 
 Kindred and friends around me press, 
 
 Ami all is glad and gay. 
 
 Father! Thy tender love aloni 
 
 Eas poured these gifts on n 
 Eelp me \\ ith grateful bearl to ov u 
 
 All blessings come from Th< 
 
 < >!i. make me still, with every year, 
 
 A better child become, 
 And lead me in Th\ faith and fear, 
 
 Till reached my heaven!} home. 
 
 Oh, bless both me and all I love; 
 
 Keep us from every ill: 
 And granl thai we may meet above, 
 
 A band unbroken still. 
 
 September 2, 1852. 
 
 T
 
 274 
 
 LINES. 
 
 NCE more, my love, once more, 
 We wander by the waves, 
 
 And listen to old ocean's roar. 
 Re-echoed from his caves. 
 
 That music of the deep, 
 
 Chimes fitful as of yore, — 
 Now gentle as an infant's sleep, 
 
 Now thundering on the shore. 
 
 Dost thou not feel the sound. 
 
 Like some familiar strain. 
 Can make the manly heart rebound. 
 
 With childhood's joy again? 
 
 The voices of Long years, 
 
 All gathered to their graves, — 
 
 The dreams of youth, its hopes and fear: 
 Speat in those breaking waves. 
 
 Yei now, to me, that voice 
 
 Of ocean seems to say, 
 That fain with us he would rejoice, 
 
 I'poii this happy day.
 
 Each tossing billow seen 
 
 To break with Lighter spr 
 And Bparkling in the morning bean 
 
 To \\ ish thee joy to-day. 
 
 Fond fancies these may be, 
 
 Ye\ 'i is the echoing heart 
 Thai makes i he same deep melody, 
 
 Sorrow or joy impart. 
 
 And e'en the mournful swell 
 
 ( >f yonder lonely sea, 
 Ai i his glad hour can only toll 
 < )f hope and bliss to me. 
 
 < >h, Dearesl ! may each year 
 
 Thai yei for thee shall rise, 
 I'.nt find thee with fresh blessings here, 
 
 And nearer to the ski 
 
 And every passing wave, 
 
 ( >f life's eventful sen. 
 Touched w ith that light earth never gave, 
 
 Melt into peace for thee. 
 
 E. 
 Hythe, October 6, 1852.
 
 276 
 
 ^Plffr LOKENCE, sweet Florence! sainted, suffering 
 
 HI child, 
 
 \» Our grievous loss is thy eternal gain: 
 
 Thy little life was one long day of pain ; 
 But, by earth's lightest shadow undefiled, 
 Baptismal drops still bright upon thy brow. 
 
 Thy rest is won. From sin and sorrow free, 
 We know that thou art safe for ever now; 
 
 And weep, but for ourselves and not for thee. 
 We miss thy sunny smiles and winning ways, 
 
 The thousand charms that made thee more than dear; 
 But though this cloud must shadow all our days, 
 
 We would in it if we could recall thee here ; 
 And only pray, when our last hour is come, 
 Where all are such as thou, we too may find our home. 
 
 E. 
 
 January 30, 1853.
 
 277 
 
 r^V^jTTl l'(i.\ this very day, ten years 
 
 4$'-§'') ■ ^ r '"- "'' i'' ;i '" i"" 1 ' ""''' , ' 1 "" s aves ' ""'■ 
 
 jrO£> '' 'I' 1 "' 111 vstk- svinKul of thy lifelong vow, 
 W^vdli Thy solemn pledge of love and constancy: 
 Ami well thai pledge has been redeemed by tl 
 For sine.' thai hour, alike in sun or shade, 
 
 Thy warm affection, never-changing truth, 
 Ami ceaseless tenderness, have well repaid 
 
 The trufli of early years, the love of youth ; — 
 Aye, thrice repaid it all ! No mystic ring 
 ( >f precious import, can I bid thee wear, 
 B rtovfid Husband ! yel the gifl I brinj . 
 
 Accept, with many a blessing, many a prayer, 
 \ml keep, for Bake of her, who loves thee now, 
 E'en more than in life's dayspring, ten blesl years 
 
 i;. 
 
 July i, i-::
 
 278 
 
 NCE again the day is dawning. 
 We so oft have loved to meet: ; 
 
 Once again, our children's voices 
 Thy birthmorn, beloved, greet. 
 
 Blithely as they ring around thee, 
 
 In their tones of childish glee, 
 Yet how true and warm the blessings 
 
 Breathed from those young hearts on thee. 
 
 And if they, in life's glad spring-time, 
 
 Peel for thee such earnest love, 
 I )eeper far the fond emotion, 
 
 That my graver heart must prove. 
 
 Years of tender, warm affection, 
 Gentleness and changeless truth, 
 
 Every day must closer bind me 
 To the one beloved of youth. 
 
 In the hours of hope and gladness, 
 Thou hast made each joy more dear; 
 
 In the days of deepest sadness, 
 Si ill thy love could soothe and cheer.
 
 •_' 7'.' 
 
 Well, then, may I fondly welcome 
 This brighl morn whii birth; 
 
 Well j 1 1 : i \ Autumn's chastened glory 
 Fairer Beem than spring-time's mirth. 
 
 Vci, though loved ones cluster round - 
 
 Still, an angel face is near, 
 \ voice upon mine ear is ringin 
 
 Earth no more can ever hear. 
 
 I me sweel flower for us has laded. 
 
 The dearesl of our infant train: 
 Yrt to this sail world we would qoI 
 
 Recall her, if we could, again. 
 
 But only pray i ach year maj find 
 
 Nearer to thai bl — d shoi 
 Where she is safe from every sorrow, 
 
 Ami we may meel to part qo more. 
 
 October 6, 1853. 
 
 
 r.
 
 280 
 
 l HEN o'er my weary eyes at last, 
 The dew of slumber falls, 
 How clear the visions of the past 
 That world of dreams recalls ! 
 T live among the dead once more, 
 
 Their voices round me ring ; 
 The forms, the faces loved of yore, 
 Float by on angel's wing. 
 
 Father and mother! ye are near 
 
 To bless your child again ; 
 Sisters beloved! kindred dear, 
 
 Ye crowd around me then. 
 Familiar voices, childish days, 
 
 The friends of early youth, 
 All blend in one commingling haze 
 
 Of fiction and of truth. 
 
 And thou, my angel child, more dear, 
 
 More wept than all the rest, 
 How oft thine image comes to cheer 
 
 Thy mourning mother's breast ! 
 I clasp thee to my heart, mine own ! 
 
 1 kiss thy check once more. 
 Alas! in this world, dreams alone 
 
 Can that loved Pace restore.
 
 28] 
 t 
 
 No marvel thai I long to Bleep, 
 
 And live again those years ; 
 No marvel thai I wake to weep, 
 
 Bui oh! qo< bitter tears. 
 Por blessed be Ifis boundless love 
 
 Who gave and took away ; — 
 We know, thai safe \\ Ith Him abo\ 
 
 Ye wail the awftil day. 
 
 In thai calm land, where earthly fears 
 
 And griefs for ever cease, 
 The infanl and the full of years 
 
 Togethei resl in peace. 
 Ami we, though sorrowing and bereft, 
 
 Must strive in faith and prayer. 
 Thankful for countless blessings left, 
 
 A i lasl to meel them there. 
 
 E. 
 October l. 1854.
 
 282 
 
 NCE more, my love, once more, though faint 
 and worn 
 The poet's fire that erst so brig] it could 
 burn, 
 
 Yet must I strive to greet the joyful morn 
 That sees Thy natal day's return. 
 
 For though how changed since youth and health were 
 mine, 
 
 When every hour its own delight could bring, 
 When o'er the past a mellowed light could shine 
 
 And hope to greet the future spring ! 
 
 Yet 'mid the clouds that shade our noontide da\ , 
 The cares and griefs which seem our portion lie re. 
 
 One joy remains to glad mine onward way, 
 One light that darkened sky to cheer. 
 
 Oh ! thankful must I be for that deep love, 
 Which changes not as changing years pass on. 
 
 But only seems a purer faith to prove, 
 When all that gave it birth is gone. 
 
 For if J loved thee in the joyous time 
 Of life's bright dayspring, its unclouded skies, 
 
 h is when conscious of her fading prime, 
 That woman love like thine can prize.
 
 And though around as cares and Borrows p] 
 \<-i countless mercies hover o'er lis still ; 
 
 And we with thankfu] hearts the hand must bl< bs 
 That still with joys our cup can fill. 
 
 Ami oh ! how thankful, thai while war and death 
 Save plunged alike in mourning Inn and hall, 
 
 No fondly Loved one tills a grave beneath 
 Thy blood-stained walls, Sebastopol! 
 
 No, still our children cluster round our hearth ; 
 
 Ami while in life and health they glad our home, 
 We well may smile upon the cares of earth, 
 
 And look w ith hope on years to come. 
 
 God bless them all .' and maysl thou live to 
 Their pathway that for which our hearts have yearned ; 
 
 Each prove in turn Eeaven's choices! gifl to b . 
 A blessing lent from God, to Him with joy returned. 
 
 E. 
 
 October 6, L855. 
 
 m
 
 284 
 
 'AINLY, beloved, have I tried to meet 
 Tli is happy time as in the days of yore, 
 And once again in joyful numbers pour 
 A heart-warm lay, thy natal morn to greet. 
 Alas ! the shadow of the past still falls 
 
 Too darkly round me with its clouds and fears ; 
 And every day like this but more recalls 
 A grief too recent still for aught but tears. 
 that whate'er our span of future years 
 On earth shall be, that darkest hour may prove 
 
 The cloud from whence a guiding light appears. 
 To lead us on with hearts and hopes above, 
 Until we meet those loved ones gone before, 
 Where grief shall pass away, and tears shall be no 
 more. 
 
 i-:. 
 
 October 6, L856.
 
 28 j 
 
 [IME hurries on, years pass us like the wind;" 
 Cansl thou, beloved, deem thai on this 
 
 day 
 Fulltwentyyearshave su iftlypassedawaj 
 siiicr firsl for thee a birthday wreath I twined '-. 
 Ah, silenl years ! brighl hours for ever fled .' 
 
 How memory lives again your hopeB and fears, 
 The love, the peace, like sunshine o'er ye shed, 
 
 The griefs that ofl have dimmed thai light \\ ith tears! 
 I'.nt still united, one for good or ill, 
 
 Together may we meel life's joys or cans ; 
 'I'm see "in- children cluster round as still, 
 Ami live again our sunm youth in theirs : 
 
 • * 
 
 And pray thai w iih our loved ones gone before, 
 W r e all at last may meet, where partings arc do more. 
 
 E. 
 
 October 6, 1857.
 
 286 
 
 J T|k OOK on the yellow leaves, the drooping flowers, 
 W The lengthening darkness, and the fading 
 
 11a day ; 
 
 WkJ^ All tell for us that Summer's joyous hours, 
 
 Perchance for ever, now have passed away. 
 
 Yet turn thou to the bright and cloudless sky, 
 The mellowed sunshine, and the moon's soft ray. 
 
 And see how heaven still seems to draw more nigh, 
 As earthlv glories one by one decav. 
 
 So, Dearest ! if life's lengthening shadows fall 
 The deeper rouud us with each onward year, 
 
 And even days like this but more recall 
 The fondly loved, the lost ibr ever, here : 
 
 YTet still may gathering glory from on high 
 Shed round thee more the brightness of the 
 
 Gild every passing cloud that dims thy sky, 
 And light the path that leads to perfect n st. 
 
 .lest ; 
 
 E. 
 
 October 6, L858,
 
 287 
 
 s when the sunbeams, their bright Qoontide 
 
 past, 
 i )'. r i he green earth a mellowed radiance 
 
 cast, 
 "And though around the lengthening shadows lie, 
 Still tinge with deeper glow the distant Bky; 
 The wanderer pauses on some Lofty ground, 
 Ami casts ! Long and Lingering glance around ; 
 I, m.ks bach once more npon fche Lengthened way 
 His feel have trod, Bince morning's earliest ray: 
 The hill-tops still with rosy sunshine bright, 
 Tip where deepening Bhadows close in night : 
 
 Then turning, muses o'( c his path to co] 
 Now dim with twilight, veiled in misty gloom, 
 And e - with beating heart and glistening eye, 
 His distant home against the evening sky ; — 
 
 So, Dearest 1 when on days like this we cast 
 
 One Lingering Look upon the chequered past, 
 
 Retrace again the pathway of long years, 
 
 Tin 3 g together shared, the smiles, the tears, 
 
 Thai still with sunshine Light departed hours, 
 
 ( >r fall Like dew on early faded tl"\\. - ; 
 
 \\ ilt tlmii not bless with me the joyful day 
 
 That gave to each another earthly stay. 
 
 And own that wedded love's mysterious power 
 
 Can cheer the darkest, Light the brightest hour :
 
 288 
 
 God's best and choicest blessings rest on thee, 
 Beloved husband ! may thy pathway be 
 Still calm and peaceful, if not bright as yore ; 
 And though around us clouds, as oft before, 
 Shall seem to gather, yet may light from high 
 Show us our home against the evening sky, 
 And lead both us, and all our cherished band. 
 Till one by one we reach that better land, 
 And joyful hear the voice that bids us come. 
 The lost to meet, the loved to welcome home. 
 
 E. 
 Odob&r <;. 1859.
 
 
 I'll wedding morn! and thou art far awav; 
 
 ■- 
 
 • 
 
 
 M 
 
 kzs/AA Between us mountains rise and bluewai 
 foam : 
 Yei well I know, that to thine own loved 
 
 IlO! 
 
 Thy thoughts are wandering on this happy day. 
 And oh ! to thee whai Longing wishes Btray ! 
 
 For thee \\ hat fervent pi !. thai He 
 
 Who bade Bethesda's waves all pains allay, 
 
 May now the healing waters bless to tl 
 And while, with anxious heart, 1 ponder o'er 
 
 How many a weary mile between as li . 
 Hope whispers still of brighter hours in bI 
 
 When thou, from warmer climes and Bunnier ski 
 Shalt reach once more the home, then doubly blessed, 
 Wiih health restored, and anxious wearing thoughts at 
 rest. 
 
 i: 
 
 July I. I860. 
 
 t
 
 290 
 
 THE BROKEN FLOWER. 
 
 CHAET CHURCH, AUGUST 13, 1865. 
 
 ^E must not mourn for thee, my broken 
 flower ! 
 Purer and dearer than earth's fairest 
 bloom, 
 NoFweep to think, how brief thy fleeting hour 
 Of hope and joy, — a cradle and a tomb. 
 Ah no ! for ere one shade of faintest gloom 
 Had dimmed the light of young love's cloudless day, 
 The darkness came ; our darling passed away, 
 
 And we are left to mourn her early doom. 
 But not with bitter tears ; for far above 
 
 All earthly hopes, around the Cross, had twined 
 Her helpless heart, in trustfulness and love ; 
 
 And now, all sin and sorrow left behind, 
 Safe on her Saviour's breast, she waits to see 
 1 1 or loved ones come. Oh, Darling! who could weep 
 for thee ? 
 
 E.
 
 29] 
 
 FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 GOD! Thou knowesl all the mi 
 That round our pathway be ; 
 Thon knowesl how both joys and cares 
 
 < ' e between us and Thee : 
 
 Thou knowesl thai our frailty 
 
 In Thee alone is Btrong ; 
 < »h ! look on our infirmity , 
 And lei us uof so wrong ! 
 
 Be Thou our strength ! proteci us now 
 In dark temptation's hour ; 
 
 For Thon weri born of woman, Thou 
 Easl fell the tempter's power ! 
 
 All sinless. Thou cans! feel for tl 
 
 \\ ho sin and sutler lonj ; 
 Then oh ! 'mid all oni' cares and w 
 
 Still lei us ii"i ero \\ ron 
 
 ■■"- 
 
 ^
 
 292 
 
 THE ASCENSION DAY. 
 
 J0%£^*5& HOU hast gone up on high ! 
 Triumphant o'er the grave, 
 And captive led captivity. 
 Thy ransomed ones to save. 
 Thou hast gone up on high ! 
 
 Oh ! help us to ascend, 
 Arid there with Thee continually, 
 In heart and spirit blend. 
 
 Thou art gone up on high ! 
 
 To mansions in the skies, 
 And round Thy throne unceasingly 
 
 The songs of praise arise. 
 But we are lingering here, 
 
 With sin and care oppressed ; 
 Oh! let the Comforter be near, 
 
 To lead us to our rest. 
 
 Thou art gone up on high ! 
 
 But Thou didst first come down, 
 Through earth's most bitter agony, 
 
 To pass unto Thy crown.
 
 And girl with 
 
 < >ur onward course musl be, 
 I'.ni only Lei that path of tears 
 
 Lead us al lasl to Th 
 
 Thou ari gone up on high ! 
 
 But Thou shall come again, 
 With all the bright ones of the sky. 
 
 Attendant on Thy train. 
 Oh ! by Thy sa\ ing povi 
 
 So make us live and die, 
 That we may stand, in that dread hour, 
 
 \i Thy right hand mi high !
 
 294 
 
 FIRST SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 ORD God! the strength and stay of all 
 Who put their trust in Thee, 
 Oil ! let our prayers, when thus we call, 
 In love accepted he. 
 
 Our mortal nature, weak and frail, 
 
 In Thee alone can stand ; 
 Our best and purest efforts fail, 
 
 "Without Thine aiding hand. 
 
 < Mi ! grant us then both strength and grace, 
 
 To keep Thy precepts still ; 
 And striye, through all our mortal race, 
 
 Simply to do Thy will. 
 
 Lord! make clean our hearts within 
 
 Forgive us all the past ; 
 And tit us, freed from every sin, 
 
 To see Thy face at last.
 
 
 ! ENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY 
 
 ( iR] ) ! of nil power and might, 
 Author and Giver 
 
 , 7/'- ( K" every £ood that sheds a I 
 I 'yir-il ^V„ Upon our pathway □ 
 
 
 Graft in our hearts the h 
 Of Thy most holy Name : 
 
 shed richly on us from aboi 
 Religion's purest flame. 
 
 Nourish us w ith all good, 
 
 Keep u- in paths of | 
 Ami bring us, through ;i Sa\ iour's bli 
 
 To joys thai aerer ci 
 
 ..• —
 
 296 
 
 SAINT ANDREW'S DAY. 
 
 0k ESU ! by whose almighty grace 
 Was holy Andrew called to be 
 First in the glorious Christian race, 
 First to leave all and follow Thee 
 
 Oh ! let Thy Spirit guide our choice, 
 E'en now while it is called to-day ; 
 
 Like him to hear Thy gracious voice. 
 Like him to doubt not nor delay. 
 
 And oh ! if we through grace may find 
 Thy pardoning peace our souls within, 
 
 Then help us, with true brother's mind, 
 A brother's heart for Thee to win. 
 
 So, when our earthly race is run, 
 
 When Thou Thy ransomed ones shall own. 
 We, and the souls that we have won, 
 
 May shine Like shirs around Thy throne.
 
 
 SAINT THOMAS'S DAY. 
 
 THOU : who didsl with love untold 
 
 Thy doubl ing servant chi . 
 Ami bade the eye of sense behold, 
 What faith Bhould have made clear 
 Granl as, like him, with heartfell 
 
 To own Thee God and Lord, 
 And from bis hour of darkness, draw 
 A fuller faith's reward. 
 
 And while that wondrous record now, 
 
 ( >f unbelief we hear, 
 Oh ! let us only |..u lier bow, 
 
 In self-distrusting f 
 And pray that we may never dare 
 
 Thy Spirit s<> to grieve, 
 Hut at t he lasi their b are, 
 
 Who see not, yei believe. 

 
 29* 
 
 SAINT STEPHENS DA Y. 
 
 LORD ! in all our trials here, 
 
 Whate'er those trials be, 
 Help us, without oue doubt or fear, 
 To cast our care on Thee ; 
 To look from earth to yon bright sky, 
 
 And there, by faith behold 
 The glories hid from mortal eye, 
 To mortal car untold. 
 
 And if contempt, reproach, or loss, 
 
 We suffer for Thy Name, 
 Teach us to triumph in the cross, 
 
 To glory in the shame ; 
 With gentle words and actions kind, 
 
 Requite our bitterest for. 
 And as we mercy hope to find, 
 
 So mercy to bestow. 
 
 Oh for his spirit! martyr true! 
 
 Who, with his last lain ( breath, 
 Prayed for the fierce, relentless crew 
 
 That wrought his bloody death! 
 Oh for his faith ! who even there, 
 
 Soft as an angel, smiled. 
 And u iih one calm, confiding prayer, 
 
 Sic] a like ;i weary ch
 
 
 SAINT JOHN THE EVANGELISTS DAY. 
 
 II ! God of mercy ! chill i rk 
 
 waters swell around Thine ark ; 
 Send forth, we pray, fresh Btreams of light, 
 To guide Iht through the deepening ni 
 
 Long ! led 'mid the waves ; 
 
 Bui louder now the tempesi r;n 
 I with the world's fast closiD 
 Wilder the resl less billows hea~\ 
 
 Fierce foes without, false hearts within, 
 Rebuke and conflict, shame and sin, 
 A i oni e Thy sorrow ing < 'hurch musl bri 
 O Lord ! ii forth Thine hand and - 
 
 Lei thai sure word her beacon i 
 The loved disciple caughl from I 
 And traced upon the holy pa 
 To lighl her on from age to i 
 
 < Hi ! to thai Faith still k 
 Nov? 'mid the storm h< r strenj I h rei 
 Till, washed in blood, I '■• tei 
 
 Mcel for her crow n, '1 \<\ Br
 
 500 
 
 HOLY INNOCENTS' DAY. 
 
 $LORY to Thee, Lord! 
 
 Who, from this world of sin, 
 By the fierce monarch's ruthless sword, 
 Those precious ones didst win. 
 
 Glory to Thee, Lord ! 
 
 For now, all grief unknown, 
 They wait in patience their reward, — 
 
 The martyr's heavenly crown. 
 
 Baptized in their own blood, 
 
 Earth's untried perils o'er, 
 They passed unconsciously the flood, 
 
 And safely gained the shore. 
 
 Glory for them ! for all 
 
 The ransomed infant band, 
 Who since that hour have heard Thy call, 
 
 And readied the quiet land. 
 
 Oh that our hearts within, 
 
 Like theirs, were pure and bright ! 
 
 Oh that, as Tree from wilful sin. 
 We shrank not from Thy eight! 
 
 Lord, help US e\eiy hour 
 
 Thy cleansing grace to claim ; 
 In life to glorify Thy power, 
 In deatli !<> praise Thy Name.
 
 
 K. 
 
 SAINT PAUL'S DAT. 
 
 '1 :s Tli.-c, Lnnljor tl ar light, 
 
 The dayspring from od high, 
 .'r; ; ! Thai burs! upon I I itile night, 
 \/ ' '■■' And bade the darkness fly. 
 
 We bless Thee for the joyful sound, 
 
 Firs! sent by holy Paul, 
 The voice thai woke earth's utmosi bound, 
 To hear Thy gracious call. 
 
 And as in him fierce, nil I al, 
 
 Touched by Thy love, I" came 
 An ardent thirsl for others' weal, 
 
 A pure and holy flame : 
 So in our hearts all wrath dispel, 
 
 All bitten si roy ; 
 
 And lei Thy mind within us dwell. 
 
 Thy h.vc and peace and joy. 
 
 And of Thy mercy, hear our cry 
 
 For this long-favoured land, 
 Thai now, as in the da; - gone by, 
 
 Ber strength may be Thv hand ;
 
 302 
 
 That still the great Apostle's sword 
 
 Undaunted she may wield, 
 And find that never-failing word 
 
 Her weapon and her shield. 
 
 .May she her holy lot fulfil, 
 
 Earth's sanctuary to be, 
 And stand amid the nations still, 
 
 A witness true for Thee. 
 And when the last dread trumpet's sound 
 
 Upon her ear shall ring, 
 Grant that her children may be found 
 
 Prepared to meet their King.
 
 
 THE PURIFIC ITION. 
 
 THOU ! who didst, though Beaven' 
 King, 
 For ns earth's lowei 
 And to Thine house vouchsafe to briE 
 
 The hum! of the | i - ; 
 
 Make clean, we pray, our I •■ ithin, 
 
 Subdue in as all earthly pride, 
 
 And lei each rising thought of sin, 
 
 In tears of penitence subside. 
 
 Thou wen for us the sacrifice, 
 
 The s | ». 1 1 1 i ah i'"i- sinners slain ; 
 Oh ! lei Thy blood, of oountli ss pric 
 
 ( lleanse as from • ain. 
 
 Thine image in our hearts n 
 
 Thai so, I" fore Thy Father's throi 
 When heaven and earth shall l"' do m 
 
 Thou maj -• pr< Benl ns as Thine ov a.
 
 504 
 
 SAINT MATTHIAS'S DAY. 
 
 GOD ! upon this solemn day, 
 A day of warning and of fear, 
 
 Help us with guileless lips to pray, 
 With lowly hearts to Thee draw near. 
 
 For awful is the thought, that he 
 
 Who saw Thy face, who heard Thy call, 
 
 And shared the mystic cu] > with Thee, 
 So fearfully at last could fall ! 
 
 From guilt like his, from deadly sin, 
 
 God ! in mercy keep us free : 
 The fatal seed may lurk within ; 
 
 Then help us, lest we fall from Thee. 
 
 And for Thy holy Church we pray, 
 That Thou wouldst keep her, as of old, 
 
 Alike from shepherds who betray, 
 And slice]) that wander from her fold. 
 
 Willi holy pastors Mess her still, 
 
 Faithful and firm to lead her on, 
 Through light and darkness, good and ill, 
 
 Till earth is past, and Heaven is won.
 
 
 I III-: ANNUNCIATION 
 
 Tl!< >U, i- u hose all-seeing eye 
 Earth's mysteries are clear, 
 
 Who bright as i atide cans! descry 
 
 What we deem darkest here ; 
 Blake us in low ly faith rejoice, 
 
 Wiih her, \\ ho on iliis day 
 First heard tin' angel's wondrous vol 
 And heard bul to obej . 
 
 For though on duty's narrow path 
 I >;ii'k clouds ;iw hile may rest, 
 
 < Mi'' light t lie weary spirit hath, 
 'I'n feel, Thy way is b< si ! 
 
 -\ 1 1 < 1 say, •• Wnate'er betide, \<t still 
 Behold Th\ servant, Lord ! 
 
 lie ii to me, through good ami ill, 
 \ ordina to Thy word."
 
 306 
 
 SAINT MARK'S DAY. 
 
 ORD of all light and life, 
 Our only refuge Thou, 
 These are the days of doubt and strife, 
 Oh ! hear and help us now ! 
 
 Our childish years are passed ; 
 
 May we no more again 
 Like children veer with every blast 
 
 Of doctrine strange and vain : 
 
 "o^ 
 
 But rooted firm on Thee, 
 
 And 'stablished in Thy word, 
 .Make us in heart and spirit be, 
 
 A people of the Lord. 
 
 Ami may that shining Light, 
 
 Left by Thy saints of old, 
 Still guide Thy (lock through storm and in. 
 
 In safely to Thy fold.
 
 
 S [INT I'll I I.I l' AND SAINT JA UES'S l> I F 
 
 I'ATII I'.l; ; whom in truth to know 
 
 Is evermore to live, 
 ( >n us thai choi ifi bestow, 
 
 That blessed knowledge give. 
 
 » ) Chrisl ! i Lie true and living Way, 
 That leads alone to God, 
 
 I [elp as i" follow, day by day, 
 Thai path Thou first hast trod 
 
 u bl< --"'I Spiril ' only Thou 
 In truth cansi guide us still ; 
 
 Be near us. teach us, help as now 
 TodoThv holv will. 
 
 Lead us along the narrow road 
 I'., saints and martyrs trod, 
 
 Till reached ai last their blessed abode, 
 The City .-ruin- God.
 
 308 
 
 "^ 
 
 SAINT BARNABAS' 'S DA Y. 
 
 i 
 
 H ! God of comfort ! Thou alone 
 
 The throbbing heart canst still, 
 
 And with that peace earth cannot give, 
 
 The lonely bosom fill ; 
 
 Upon the wounded spirit,. Thou 
 
 Canst pour Thy healing balm, 
 
 And shed o'er life's hot, weary day 
 
 The dew of holiest calm. 
 
 ( > that to us Thou wouldst in love 
 
 That blessed gift impart, 
 And make us " sons of comfort" prove 
 
 To many a weary hear! ! 
 that like holy Barnabas, 
 
 Full of Thy faith and fear, 
 Our daily path might leave a glow, 
 
 Like angel footsteps, here! 
 
 L, 
 
 / 
 
 / 
 
 J. and W. iiiiikk, PRINTKHS, LONDON.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
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