THE keen north wind hath blown the clouds In the smooth river, while I dream of

The sweetest tales of human weal and sorrow, Hang o'er me when the chord of life is

ALONE ONCE MORE.

ALONE once more!

ALL HEARTS ARE NOT DISLOYAL.

but with such deep ALL hearts are not disloyal: let thy trust emotion, Be deep, and clear, and all-confiding still, Waking to life a thousand hopes and fears, For though Love's fruit turn on the lips to Such wild distrust such absolute devotion, dust, My bosom seems a dreary lake of tears:

Tears that stern manhood long restrain'd from gushing,

As mountains keep a river from the sea, Until Spring's floods, impetuously rushing, Channel a bed, and set its waters free!

What mockery to all true and earnest feeling,
This fatal union of the false and fair!
Eyes, lips, and voice, unmeasured bliss re-

vealing,

She ne'er betrays her child to lasting ill: Through leagues of desert must the pilgrim go Ere on his gaze the holy turrets rise; Through the long, sultry day the stream must flow

Ere it can mirror twilight's purple skies. Fall back unscathed from contact with the vain,

Keep thy robes white, thy spirit bold and
free,

And calmly launch Affection's bark again,
Hopeful of golden spoils reserved for thee!

With hearts whose lightness fills us with Though lone the way as that already trod,
Cling to thine own integrity and GOD!

despair!

O God! some sorrows of our wondrous being
A patient mind can partly clear away;
Ambition cools when fortune's gifts are
fleeing,
And men grow thoughtful round a
brother's clay;

But to what end this waste of noble passion?
This wearing of a truthful heart to dust -
Adoring slaves of humour, praise, or fashion,
The vain recipients of a boundless trust?

Come home, fond heart, cease all instinctive
pleading,

As the dread fever of insane desire,
To some dark gulf by warm affections leading,
When love must long survive, though faith
expire!

Though wonted glory from the earth will vanish,

And life seem desolate, and hope beguile, Love's cherish'd dream learn steadfastly to banish,

Till death thy spirit's conflict reconcile!

FREEDOM.

FREEDOM! beneath thy banner I was born
O let me share thy full and perfect life!
Teach me opinion's slavery to scorn,

And to be free from passion's bitter strife;
Free of the world, a self-dependent soul

Nourish'd by lofty aims and genial truth,
And made more free by Love's serene control,
The spell of beauty and the hopes of
youth.
The liberty of Nature let me know,
Caught from her mountains, groves, and
crystal streams,
Her starry host, and sunset's purple glow,
That woo the spirit with celestial dreams,
On Fancy's wing exultingly to soar,
Till life's harsh fetters clog the heart no
more!

INDIAN SUMMER.

LIGHT as love's smiles, the silvery mist at

morn

Each felt that the past we could never

recover, Each felt that the future no hope could restore;

Floats in loose flakes along the limpid river; She shudder'd at wringing the heart of her

The blue bird's notes upon the soft breeze

borne,

As high in air he carols, faintly quiver;
The weeping birch, like banners idly waving,
Bends to the stream, its spicy branches
laving;

Beaded with dew, the witch-elm's tassels
shiver;

The timid rabbit from the furze is peeping, And from the springy spray the squirrel's gaily leaping.

Long years have gone by, and the spring-
time smiles ever

As o'er our young loves it first smiled in
their birth.
Long years have gone by, yet that parting,
O! never

Can it be forgotten by either on earth. The note of each wild bird that carols toward heaven,

Must tell her of swift-winged hopes that were mine,

I love thee, Autumn, for thy scenery ere
The blasts of winter chase the varied dyes
That richly deck the slow-declining year;
I love the splendour of thy sunset skies,
The gorgeous hues that tinge each failing leaf, And the dew that steals over each blossom
Lovely as beauty's cheek, as woman's love

too, brief;

I love the note of each wild bird that flies,
As on the wind he pours his parting lay,
And wings his loitering flight to summer
climes away.

O, Nature! still I fondly turn to thee,
With feelings fresh as e'er my childhood's

were;

Though wild and passion-toss'd my youth

may be,

Tells me of the tear-drop that wept their

at even,

decline.

TO AN AUTUMN ROSE.

Toward thee I still the same devotion bear; TELL her I love her
To thee
- to thee
though health and hope

no more

Life's wasted verdure may to me restore-
I still can, child-like, come as when in prayer
I bow'd my head upon a mother's knee,
And deem'd the world, like her, all truth
and purity.

WE PARTED IN SADNESS.

WE parted in sadness, but spoke not of parting;

We talk'd not of hopes that we both must resign, I saw not her eyes, and but one tear-drop starting,

Fell down on her hand as it trembled in mine:

Herrig, American. Literatur. II.

love her for those eyes

Now soft with feeling, radiant now with
mirth

Which, like a lake reflecting autumn skies,
Reveal two heavens here to us on Earth
The one in which their soulful beauty lies,
And that wherein such soulfulness has
birth:

Go to my lady ere the season flies,
And the rude winter comes thy bloom to
blast

Go! and with all of eloquence thou hast,
The burning story of my love discover,
And if the theme should fail, alas! to move
her,

Tell her when youth's gay budding-time is
past,

And summer's gaudy flowering is over,
Like thee, my love will blossom to the last!

SHE had been told that God made all the Stole on with its deep shadows, and she

That twinkled up in heaven; and now she Stood looking at the west with that half stood

Half parted with the new and strange delight
Of beauty that she could not comprehend,
And had not seen before. The purple folds
Of the low sunset clouds, and the blue sky,,Father, dear father, God has made a star.“