But soon, the prospect clearing,
By cloudless starlight on he treads,
And thinks no lamp so cheering

As that light which Heaven sheds!

IN THE MORNING OF LIFE.

IN the morning of life, when its cares are unknown, And its pleasures in all their new lustre begin, When we live in a bright beaming world of our own, And the light that surrounds us is all from within: Oh, it is not, believe me, in that happy time

We can love as in hours of less transport we may : Of our smiles, of our hopes, 'tis the gay sunny prime, But affection is warmest when these fade away.

When we see the first glory of youth pass us by, Like a leaf on the stream that will never return; When our cup, which had sparkled with pleasure so high,

First tastes of the other, the dark-flowing urn; Then, then is the moment affection can sway

With a depth and a tenderness joy never knew; Love nursed among pleasures is faithless as they, But the love born of sorrow, like sorrow, is true!

In climes full of sunshine, though splendid their dyes,
Yet faint is the odour the flowers shed about;
'Tis the clouds and the mists of our own weeping
That call the full spirit of fragrancy out. [skies
So the wild glow of passion may kindle from mirth,
But 'tis only in grief true affection appears;
And, even though to smiles it may first owe its birth,
All the soul of its sweetness is drawn out by tears.

WHEN COLD IN THE EARTH.

WHEN Cold in the earth lies the friend thou hast loved, Be his faults and his follies forgot by thee then; Or if from their slumber the veil be removed,

Weep o'er them in silence, and close it again. And oh! if 'tis pain to remember how far [roam, From the pathways of light he was tempted to Be it bliss to remember that thou wert the star

That arose on his darkness and guided him home.

From thee and thy innocent beauty first came

The revealings that taught him true love to adore, To feel the bright presence, and turn him with shame From the idols he blindly had knelt to before. O'er the waves of a life long benighted and wild, Thou camest, like a soft golden calm o'er the sea; And if happiness purely and glowingly smiled

On his evening horizon, the light was from thee.

And though sometimes the shade of past folly would rise,

And though falsehood again would allure him to

stay,

He but turn'd to the glory that dwelt in those eyes,
And the folly, the falsehood soon vanish'd away.
As the priests of the sun, when their altar grew dim,
At the daybeam alone could its lustre repair,
So, if virtue a moment grew languid in him,

He but flew to that smile, and rekindled it there.

THEE, THEE, ONLY THEE.

THE dawning of morn, the daylight's sinking,
The night's long hours still find me thinking
Of thee, thee, only thee.

When friends are met, and goblets crown'd, And smiles are near that once enchanted, Unreach'd by all that sunshine round,

My soul, like some dark spot, is haunted By thee, thee, only thee.

Whatever in fame's high path could waken My spirit once, is now forsaken

For thee, thee, only thee.

Like shores, by which some headlong bark
To the ocean hurries-resting never-
Life's scenes go by me, bright or dark,
I know not, heed not, hastening ever
To thee, thee, only thee.

I have not a joy but of thy bringing,
And pain itself seems sweet, when springing
From thee, thee, only thee.

Like spells that naught on earth can break,
Till lips that know the charm have spoken,
This heart, howe'er the world may wake
Its grief, its scorn, can but be broken
By thee, thee, only thee.

THOSE EVENING BELLS.

THOSE evening bells! those evening bells!
How many a tale their music tells,
Of youth, and home, and that sweet time,
When last I heard their soothing chime!

Those joyous hours are past away!
And many a heart that then was gay,
Within the tomb now darkly dwells,
And hears no more those evening bells!
And so 'twill be when I am gone:
That tuneful peal will still ring on,
While other bards shall walk these dells,
And sing your praise, sweet evening bells!

OFT, IN THE STILLY NIGHT.

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OFT, in the stilly night,

Ere Slumber's chain has bound me,
Fond Memory brings the light

Of other days around me;

The smiles, the tears,
Of boyhood's years,

The words of love then spoken ;
The eyes that shone,

Now dimm'd and gone,

The cheerful hearts now broken!

Thus, in the stilly night,

Ere Slumber's chain has bound me,
Sad Memory brings the light

Of other days around me.

When I remember all

The friends, so link'd together,
I've seen around me fall,

Like leaves in wintry weather,
I feel like one
Who treads alone

Some banquet-hall deserted,
Whose lights are fled,

Whose garland's dead,

And all but he departed!

Thus, in the stilly night,

Ere Slumber's chain has bound me,

Sad Memory brings the light

Of other days around me.

WEEP NOT FOR THOSE.

WEEP not for those whom the veil of the tomb,
In life's happy morning, hath hid from our eyes,
Ere sin threw a blight o'er the spirit's young bloom,
Or earth had profaned what was born for the skies.

Death chill'd the fair fountain ere sorrow had

stain'd it,

"Twas frozen in all the pure light of its course, And but sleeps till the sunshine of heaven has unchain'd it,

To water that Eden where first was its source! Weep not for those whom the veil of the tomb, In life's happy morning, hath hid from our eyes, Ere sin threw a blight o'er the spirit's young bloom, Or earth had profaned what was born for the skies. Mourn not for her, the young Bride of the Vale, Our gayest and loveliest, lost to us now, Ere life's early lustre had time to grow pale,

And the garland of love was yet fresh on her brow! Oh! then was her moment, dear spirit, for flying From this gloomy world, while its gloom was unknown;

And the wild hymns she warbled so sweetly, in dying, Were echoed in Heaven by lips like her own! Weep not for her; in her springtime she flew

To that land where the wings of the soul are unfurl'd,

And now, like a star beyond evening's cold dew, Looks radiantly down on the tears of this world.

THIS WORLD IS ALL A FLEETING SHOW.

THIS World is all a fleeting show,
For man's illusion given;

The smiles of Joy, the tears of Wo,
Deceitful shine, deceitful flow-

There's nothing true but Heaven!

And false the light on Glory's plume,
As fading hues of even;

And Love, and Hope, and beauty's Bloom
Are blossoms gather'd for the tomb-
There's nothing bright but Heaven!