avail

A hundred years since here her lover stood

Beside her grave in such despairing mood,

And yet from out the vanished past I hear

His cry of anguish sounding deep and clear,

And all my heart with pity melts, as though

To-day's bright sun were looking on his woe.

"Of such a wife, O righteous heaven! bereft,

What joy for me, what joy on earth is left?

Still from my inmost soul the groans arise,

Still flow the sorrows ceaseless from mine eyes.'

Alas, poor tortured soul! I look away

From the dark stone,- how brilliant shines the day!

A low wall, over which the roses shed

Their perfumed petals, shuts the quiet dead

Apart a little, and the tiny square Stands in the broad and laughing field so fair,

And gay green vines climb o'er the rough stone wall,

And all about the wild-birds flit and call,

And but a stone's-throw southward, the blue sea

Rolls sparkling in and sings incessantly.

Lovely as any dream the peaceful place,

And scarcely changed since on her gentle face

For the last time on that sad April day

He gazed, and felt, for him, all beauty

lay

Buried with her forever. Looked the bright world through eyes with tears so dim!

[him Dull to

God

lifts our saddened foreheads from the dust,

That leads and opens to the coasts of day."

The

everlasting God, in whom we trust!

"I soon shall follow the same dreary way

THE SANDPIPER.

ACROSS the narrow beach we flit,
One little sandpiper and I
And fast I gather, bit by bit,
The scattered driftwood bleached
and dry

The wild waves reach their hands
for it,
[high,
The wild wind raves, the tide runs
As up and down the beach we flit,-
One little sandpiper and I.

Above our heads the sullen clouds Scud black and swift across the sky; Like silent ghosts in misty shrouds Stand out the white lighthouses high.

Almost as far as eye can reach

I see the close-reefed vessels fly, As fast we flit along the beach,One little sandpiper and I.

I watch him as he skims along Uttering his sweet and mournful cry;

He starts not at my fitful song,

Or flash of fluttering drapery; He has no thought of any wrong,

He scans me with a fearless eye; Stanch friends are we, well tried and strong,

The little sandpiper and I.

Comrade, where wilt thou be to-night When the loosed storm breaks furiously?

My driftwood fire will burn so bright! To what warm shelter canst thou fly?

I do not fear for thee, though wroth The tempest rushes through the sky:

For are we not God's children both, Thou, little sandpiper, and I?

[From The Seasons.]

PURE AND HAPPY LOVE.

BUT happy they! the happiest of their kind!

Whom gentler stars unite, and in one fate

Their hearts, their fortunes, and their beings blend.

'Tis not the coarser tie of human laws,

Unnatural oft, and foreign to the mind,

That binds their peace, but harmony itself,

Attuning all their passions into love; Where Friendship full-exerts her softest power,

Perfect esteem enlivened by desire Ineffable, and sympathy of soul; Thought meeting thought, and will preventing will,

With boundless confidence: nought but love

for

The

dash of clouds, or irritating

Can answer love, and render bliss

secure.

war

Of fighting winds, while all is calm

below,

They furious spring. A boding silence reigns,

Dread through the dun expanse; save the dull sound

That from the mountain, previous to the storm,

Rolls o'er the muttering earth, disturbs the flood,

And shakes the forest-leaf without a

breath.

Prone, to the lowest vale, the aërial tribes

Descend: the tempest-loving raven

scarce

Dares wing the dubious dusk. In rueful gaze

The cattle stand, and on the scowling heavens

Cast a deploring eye; by man forsook, Who to the crowded cottage hies him fast,

Or seeks the shelter of the downward cave.

'Tis listening fear, and dumb amazement all:

When to the startled eye the sudden glance

Appears far south, eruptive through the cloud;

And following slower, in explosion vast,

The thunder raises his tremendous voice.

At first, heard solemn o'er the verge of heaven,

The tempest growls; but as it nearer

A SERENER blue, With golden light enlivened, wide invests

The happy world. Attempered suns arise, Sweet-beamed,

and shedding oft through lucid clouds A pleasing calm; while broad and brown, below

Extensive harvests hang the heavy head.

Rich, silent, deep, they stand; for not a gale

Rolls its light billows o'er the bending plain:

A calm of plenty! till the ruffled air Falls from its poise, and gives the breeze to blow.

Rent is the fleecy mantle of the sky; The clouds fly different; and the sudden sun

By fits effulgent gilds the illumined field,

And black by fits the shadows sweep along.

A gaily-chequered heart-expanding view,

Far as the circling eye can shoot around,

Unbounded tossing in a flood of corn. These are thy blessings, industry! rough power!

Whom labor still attends, and sweat, and pain;

Yet the kind source of every gentle

art,

And all the soft civility of life.