HEY may rail at this life-from the hour I began it, I found it a life full of kindness and bliss; And, until they can show me some happier planet, More social and bright, I'll content me with this. As long as the world has such lips and such eyes, As before me this moment enraptured I see,

They may say what they will of their orbs in the skies, But this earth is the planet for you, love, and me.

In Mercury's star, where each moment can bring them
New sunshine and wit from the fountain on high,
Though the nymphs may have livelier poets to sing them,
They've none, even there, more enamour'd than I;
And, as long as this harp can be waken'd to love,
And that eye its divine inspiration shall be,
They may talk as they will of their Edens above,
But this earth is the planet for you, love, and me.

In that star of the west, by whose shadowy splendour
At twilight so often we've roam'd through the dew,
There are maidens, perhaps, who have bosoms as tender,
And look, in their twilights, as lovely as you.

But tho' they were even more bright than the queen
Of that isle they inhabit in heaven's blue sea,
As I never those fair young celestials have seen,
Why this earth is the planet for you, love, and me.

As for those chilly orbs on the verge of creation,
Where sunshine and smiles must be equally rare,
Did they want a supply of cold hearts for that station,
Heav'n knows we have plenty on earth we could spare.

Oh! think what a world we should have of it here,
If the haters of peace, of affection, and glee,
Were to fly up to Saturn's comfortless sphere,

And leave earth to such spirits as you, love, and me.

THE DAY-DREAM.

HEY both were hush'd, the voice, the chords,—
I heard but once that witching lay;

And few the notes, and few the words,
My spell-bound memory brought away;

Traces remember'd here and there,

Like echoes of some broken strain ;

Links of a sweetness lost in air,

That nothing now could join again.

Ev'n these, too, ere the morning, fled;

And though the charm still linger'd on, That o'er each sense her song had shed, The song itself was faded, gone ;

Gone, like the thoughts that once were ours,
On summer days, ere youth had set;
Thoughts bright, we know, as summer flowers,
Though what they were, we now forget.

In vain, with hints from other strains,
I woo'd this truant air to come-
As birds are taught, on Eastern plains,
To lure their wilder kindred home.

In vain :-the song that Sappho gave,
In dying, to the mournful sea,
Not muter slept beneath the wave,
Than this within my memory.

At length, one morning, as I lay

In that half-waking mood, when dreams Unwillingly at last give way

To the full truth of daylight's beams,

A face the very face, methought,

From which had breath'd, as from a shrine Of song and soul, the notes I soughtCame with its music close to mine;

And sung the long-lost measure o’er,—
Each note and word, with every tone
And look, that lent it life before,-
All perfect, all again my own!

Like parted souls, when, mid the Blest
They meet again, each widow'd sound
Through memory's realm had wing'd in quest
Of its sweet mate, till all were found.

Nor even in waking did the clue,

Thus strangely caught, escape again;

For never lark its matins knew

So well as now I knew this strain.

And oft, when memory's wondrous spell
Is talk'd of in our tranquil bower,

I sing this lady's song, and tell

The vision of that morning hour.

THE YOUNG MAY MOON.

HE young May moon is beaming, love,
The glow-worm's lamp is gleaming, love,
How sweet to rove

Through Morna's grove,