Oh, 't was a wild and lovely spot,
Which well might seem a spirit's home!
A lone retreat, a noiseless grot,

Where earth's rude blasts could never come.

Within a broad and open glade,

A tulip spread its gaudy hue,
While, 'neath the myrtle's clustering shade,
A sweetly-drooping lily grew.

As the light zephyrs o'er them swept,
And heighten'd many a rosy glow,
A strange, deep murmur round them crept,
Like distant music, wild and low.

'Twas the gay tulip's fragrant breath,
Which many an answering echo woke,
As to her lowly neighbour, thus,

With proud and haughty mien, she spoke: "Away! frail trembling flower! nor dare To droop beside my glittering form! Behold how bright my garments are, And mark each sweetly varying charm! "Then hie thee to some lonely nook, Nor show thy pallid features here; Go, murmur to some babbling brook, Where like thyself each scene is drear! "Hast thou assurance thus to gaze On one who nature's self beguiles? Hence! haste thee hence! and hide that face, Where parent nature never smiles." She ceased- -a sad, sweet whispering rose, Which thrill'd the zephyrs list'ning ear;

Soft as an angel's gentlest tone,

Too heavenly for this mortal sphere.

'Twas the pale lily's silvery voice, Which rose in low and thrilling tone, Like breath of wild Eolian lyre,

Moved by the wind-god's tenderest moan: "Great queen!" the lovely gem replied, "I view thy charms, I own their power, And void of envy, shame, or pride, Admire thy beauties of an hour. "Full well I know my pallid brow

Can never match the hues of thine; Nor my white robes the colours wear,

Which on thy dazzling garments shine. "But the same hand hath form'd us both; And heaven-born nature smiled as sweet As on thy form, when the low flower Was peeping from its green retreat.

"Here was I planted! let me here
Still live in purity and peace;
The lily's eye shall never weep
To gain the tulip's gaudy grace.
"But oh, forget not, 'mid the pomp
Of earthly kingdom, pride, and joy,
That boasted beauty must decay,

And withering age thy pleasures cloy.
"Receive the lily's kind advice,-
Retire from scenes of public life,
And pass thy days in solitude,
Apart from vanity and strife."
While the sweet murmur past away,
The stately rose as umpire came;
The lily shunn'd her proud survey,
The lordly tulip bent for shame.
In accents bland, but nobly firm,

The queen-like flow'ret soon replied,
In tones which charm'd the tender flower,
And humbled more the tulip's pride.

"Come hither, pure and lovely one,
With thee no garden plant can vie;
Not e'en the tulip's gaudy hues
Match with thy stainless, spotless dye.
"Come to my bosom, emblem fair

Of heavenly virtue's fairer form!
Here let me learn each modest grace,

While here I hush each wild alarm.
"Come to my bosom! what so pure,
So lovely as a modest one,
Who flies from folly's glittering lure,
And shuns the bright meridian sun!

"Let the proud tulip glitter still,
Robed in her scarf of varying hue;

Alone 'neath nature's eye we'll rest,

Cheer'd by her smile, and nurtured by her dew."

VERSIFICATION OF THE TWENTY-THIRD PSALM.

My shepherd is the faithful Lord,
I shall not want, I trust his word;
He lays me down in pastures green,
He leads me by the lake serene;
Comforts my soul, and points me on
To pure religion's holy shrine.

1831.

I wander through the vale of death,
Yet he supports me still;
He will receive my dying breath
If I perform his will.

Even in the presence of my foes

He doth a meal of plenty spread;
My cup with blessings overflows,
With oil he does anoint my head.

TO BROTHER L.

THE Vessel lightly skims the wave,
And bounds across the waters blue,
Near shores where trees luxuriant spread,
And roses wildly blooming grew.
Yon islands see!' so fair and bright,
Like gems upon the azure sea;
The waters dance like forms of light,
And waft my brother dear from me.
1831.

FOR MAMMA.

THE rippling stream serenely glides,
And rising meets the swelling tides;
The fleeting lights of heaven around
Shine brightly o'er the vast profound.
The moon hath hid her silvery face,
So mark'd with beauty and with grace,
Majestic when she rides on high,
A gem upon the azure sky!

My thoughts, oh Lord, then turn to thee,
Of what thou art and I shall be;

Thy outstretch'd wings around me spread, And guard with love my hapless head. 1831.

TO MAMMA.

FAREWELL, dear mother, for awhile
I must resign thy plaintive smile;
May angels watch thy couch of wo,
And joys unceasing round thee flow.
May the almighty Father spread
His sheltering wings above thy head.
It is not long that we must part,
Then cheer thy downcast, drooping heart.

Remember, oh remember me,,
Unceasing is my love for thee!
When death shall sever earthly ties,
When thy loved form all senseless lies.

Oh that my soul with thine could flee,
And roam through wide eternity;

Could tread with thee the courts of heaven,
And count the brilliant stars of even.
Farewell, dear mother, for awhile
I must resign thy plaintive smile;
May angels watch thy couch of woe,
And joys unceasing round thee flow.

1831

TO A FLOWER.

THE blighting hand of winter
Has laid thy glories low;
Oh, where is all thy beauty?
Where is thy freshness now?
Summer has pass'd away,
With every smiling scene,
And nature in decay

Assumes a mournful mien.

How like adversity's rude blast

Upon the helpless one,

When hope's gay visions all have passed,
And to oblivion gone.

Yet winter has some beauties left,
Which cheer my heart forlorn;
Nature is not of charms bereft,
Though shrouded by the storm.

I see the sparkling snow;

I view the mountain tops;
I mark the frozen lake below,
Or the dark rugged rocks.
How truly grand the scene!
The giant trees are bare,
No fertile meadows intervene,
No hillocks fresh and fair;
But the cloud-capp'd mountains rise,
Crown'd with purest whiteness,
And mingle with the skies,

That shine with azure brightness.

And solitude, that friend so dear
To each reflecting mind,

Her residence has chosen here
To soothe the heart refined.

STANZAS.

ROLL on, roll on, bright orb of day;
Roll on, thou beauteous queen of even;
Ye stars, that ever twinkling play,
And sweetly grace the azure heaven.

Roll on, until thy God's command

Shall rend the sky and tear the earth;
Till he stretch forth his mighty hand
To check the voice of joyous mirth.

He spread the heavens as a scroll,

He made the sea, he form'd the world;
The heavens again shall backward roll,
And mountains from their base be hurl'd.

He form'd the lovely verdant green,
And aught of fair that e'er has been;
These beauties all shall pass away,
And in one shapeless ruin lay.

But God in his glory, the God of the sky,
Will continue through endless eternity;
For ever untainted, all holy and pure,
His love and his mercy shall ever endure.

ESSAY ON NATURE.

How just, how pure, how holy is the great Creator of the universe! When I gaze upon all the wonders of nature, the rippling stream, the distant mountain, the rugged rock, or the gently sloping hill, my mind turns to the first Great Cause of all; the Author of this mingled beauty, grandeur, and simplicity. God made this beautiful world for us, that we might be happy, and why are we not so? Because we do not seek real happiness. We are striving to obtain worldly pleasure; but what is that, compared with the happiness of a child of God? He feels and knows that his Saviour is ever dear; he weeps over his past follies with a sweet consciousness that they are all forgiven; that the kind Shepherd has brought back his lost sheep to the fold. He trusts in the goodness of his Creator. His faith is firm in the blessed Saviour who died for him; he has charity for all, love for all. Such is the Christian! His earthly sorrows seem light, for his thoughts are continually upon his just Preserver. What is man, frail, feeble man, but a flower of the field, that fades away with the rude blast of the autumnal storm! How infinite the love which sustains him!

Plattsburgh, 1832.