And I said, "If there's peace to be found in the world, A heart that was humble might hope for it here!”

It was noon, and on flowers that languish'd around
In silence reposed the voluptuous bee;
Every leaf was at rest, and I heard not a sound

But the woodpecker tapping the hollow beech-tree.

And, "Here in this lone little wood," I exclaim'd,
"With a maid who was lovely to soul and to eye,
Who would blush when I praised her, and weep if I blamed,
How blest could I live, and how calm could I die!

"By the shade of yon sumach, whose red berry dips In the gush of the fountain, how sweet to recline, And to know that I sigh'd upon innocent lips,

Which had never been sigh'd on by any but mine!”

SING-SING-MUSIC WAS GIVEN.

ING-sing-Music was given,

To brighten the gay, and kindle the loving; Souls here, like planets in heaven,

By harmony's laws alone are kept moving. Beauty may boast of her eyes and her cheeks, But Love from the lips his true archery wings;

And she, who but feathers the dart when she speaks, At once sends it home to the heart when she sings. Then sing-sing-Music was given,

To brighten the gay, and kindle the loving; Souls here, like planets in heaven,

By harmony's laws alone are kept moving.

When Love, rock'd by his mother,

Lay sleeping as calm as slumber could make him, “Hush, hush,” said Venus, " no other

Sweet voice but his own is worthy to wake him." Dreaming of music he slumber'd the while

Till faint from his lip a soft melody broke, And Venus, enchanted, look'd on with a smile, While Love to his own sweet singing awoke. Then sing-sing-Music was given,

To brighten the gay, and kindle the loving; Souls here, like planets in heaven,

By harmony's laws alone are kept moving.

IN THE MORNING OF LIFE.

N the morning of life, when its cares are unknown,
And its pleasures in all their new lustre begin,
When we live in a bright-beaming world of our own,

And the light that surrounds us is all from within ;
Oh 'tis not, believe me, in that happy time
We can love, as in hours of less transport we may :-
Of our smiles, of our hopes, 'tis the gay sunny prime,
But affection is truest when these fade away.

When we see the first glory of youth pass us by,
Like a leaf on the stream that will never return;
When our cup, which had sparkled with pleasure so high,
First tastes of the other, the dark-flowing urn;
Then, then is the time when affection holds sway

With a depth and tenderness joy never knew ;
Love, nursed among pleasures, is faithless as they,
But the love born of Sorrow, like Sorrow, is true.

In climes full of sunshine, though splendid the flowers,
Their sighs have no freshness, their odour no worth;
'Tis the cloud and the mist of our own Isle of showers,
That call the rich spirit of fragrancy forth.
So it is not mid splendour, prosperity, mirth,

That the depth of Love's generous spirit appears;
To the sunshine of smiles it may first owe its birth,

But the soul of its sweetness is drawn out by tears.

ESBIA hath a beaming eye,

But no one knows for whom it beameth;

Right and left its arrows fly,

But what they aim at no one dreameth.

Lesbia wears a robe of gold,

But all so close the nymph hath laced it, Not a charm of beauty's mould

Presumes to stay where Nature placed it. Oh! my Nora's gown for me,

That floats as wild as mountain breezes,

Leaving every beauty free

To sink or swell as Heaven pleases.

Yes, my

Nora Creina, dear,

My simple, graceful Nora Creina,

Nature's dress

Is loveliness

The dress you wear, my Nora Creina.

Lesbia hath a wit refined,

But, when its points are gleaming round us,

Who can tell if they 're design'd

To dazzle merely, or to wound us? Pillow'd on my Nora's heart,

In safer slumber Love reposes

Bed of peace! whose roughest part

Is but the crumpling of the roses.