GONE is the long, long winter night,
Look, my beloved one!

How glorious, through his depths of light,
Rolls the majestic sun!

The willows, wak'd from winter's death, Give out a fragrance like thy breath The summer is begun!

Ay, 'tis the long bright summer day:
Hark, to that mighty crash!
The loosen❜d ice-ridge breaks away –
The smitten waters flash.


Seaward the glittering mountain rides, While, down its green translucent sides, The foamy torrents dash.

See, love, my boat is moor'd for thee,
By ocean's weedy floor

The petrel does not skim the sea
More swiftly than my oar.
We'll go, where, on the rocky isles,
Her eggs the screaming sea-fowl piles
Beside the pebbly shore.

Or, bide thou where the poppy blows,
With wind-flowers frail and fair,
While I, upon his isle of snows,
Seek and defy the bear.

Fierce though he be, and huge of frame,
This arm his savage strength shall tame,
And drag him from his lair.

When crimson sky and flamy cloud
Bespeak the summer o'er,

And the dead valleys wear a shroud
Of snows that melt no more,
I'll build of ice thy winter home,
With glistening walls and glassy dome,
And spread with skins the floor.

The white fox by thy couch shall play;
And, from the frozen skies,

The meteors of a mimic day
Shall flash upon thine eyes.

And I—for such thy vow meanwhile
Shall hear thy voice and see thy smile,

Till that long midnight flies.



HER by her smile how soon the Stranger knows;
How soon by this the glad discovery shows!
As to her lips she lifts the lovely boy,

What answering looks of sympathy and joy!
He walks, he speaks. In many a broken word
His wants, his wishes, and his griefs are heard.
And ever, ever to her lap he flies,

When rosy sleep comes on with sweet surprise.
Lock'd in her arms, his arms across her flung,
(That name most dear for ever on his tongue)
As with soft accents round her neck he clings,
And, cheek to cheek, her lulling song she sings,
How blest to feel the beatings of his heart,
Breathe his sweet breath, and kiss for kiss impart
Watch o'er his slumbers like the brooding dove,
And, if she can, exhaust a mother's love!

But soon a nobler task demands her care, Apart she joins his little hands in prayer, Telling of Him who sees in secret there! And now the volume on her knee has caught His wandering eye now many a written thought Never to die, with many a lisping sweet

His moving, murmuring lips endeavour to repeat.

Releas'd, he chases the bright butterfly;
Oh he would follow follow through the sky!
Climbs the gaunt mastiff slumbering in his chain,
And chides and buffets, clinging by the mane!
Then runs, and, kneeling by the fountain-side,
Sends his brave ship in triumph down the tide,
A dangerous voyage! or, if now he can,
If now he wears the habit of a man,

Flings off the coat so long his pride and pleasure,
And, like a miser digging for his treasure,
His tiny spade in his own garden plies,
And in green letters sees his name arise!
Where'er he goes, for ever in her sight,

She looks, and looks, and still with new delight.



PILGRIM, burden'd with thy sin,
Come the way to Zion's gate;
There, till mercy let thee in,

Knock and weep, and watch and wait.
Knock! He knows the sinner's cry,
Weep! He loves the mourner's tears,
Watch! - for saving grace is nigh,
Wait!till heavenly light appears.

Hark! it is the Bridegroom's voice!
"Welcome, pilgrim, to thy rest."
Now within the gate rejoice,

Safe and seal'd, and bought and bless'd;
Safe-from all the lures of vice,

Seal'd-by signs the chosen know,
Bought by love, and life the price,
Bless'd- the mighty debt to owe!

Holy pilgrim! what for thee
In a world like this remain ?
From thy guarded breast shall flee
Fear and shame, and doubt and pain.
the hope of heaven shall fly,



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- from glory's view retire,

Doubt in certain rapture die,
Pain-in endless bliss expire.



MAN's uncertain life

Is like a rain-drop hanging on the bough, Amongst ten thousand of its sparkling kindred, The remnants of some passing thunder shower, Which have their moments, dropping one by one; And which shall soonest lose its perilous hold,

We cannot guess.





HERMINIUS beat his bosom ;

But never a word he spake.
He clapp'd his hand on Auster's mane;
He gave the reins a shake.

Away, away, went Auster,

Like an arrow from the bow:
Black Auster was the fleetest steed
From Aufidus 2 to Po.

Mamilius spied Herminius,
And dash'd across the way.
"Herminius! I have sought thee
Through many a bloody day.
One of us two, Herminius,

Shall never more go home.
I will lay on for Tusculum 3,
And lay thou on for Rome!"
All round them paus'd the battle,
While met in mortal fray
The Roman and the Tusculan,
The horses black and gray.

1 A lake called the Cornufelle, near Frascati, is supposed to be the site of the Lake Regillus, the scene of this memorable battle (B. C. 496) in which the Romans, under the Dictator Aulus Posthumius (assisted miraculously by Castor and Pollux) defeated the powerful confederation of the Latin tribes under the Tarquins and Mamilius, the chief of Tusculum. 2 A river of Apulia.

Tusculum was destroyed at the end of the 12th century, and its unfortunate inhabitants were obliged to shelter themselves in huts of branches (fraschi), from which circumstance the modern town of Frascati, built near Tusculum, derives its name.

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