Oh! my Nora Creina, dear,
My mild, my artless Nora Creina!

Wit, though bright,

Hath no such light,

As warms your eyes, my Nora Creina.

SONG.

SAW, from yonder silent cave,
Two Fountains running, side by side,
The one was Mem'ry's limpid wave,

The other cold Oblivion's tide.

"Oh Love!" said I, in thoughtless mood, As deep I drank of Lethe's stream,

"Be all my sorrows in this flood Forgotten like a vanish'd dream!"

But who could bear that gloomy blank,
Where joy was lost as well as pain?
Quickly of Mem'ry's fount I drank,

And brought the past all back again;
And said, "Oh Love! whate'er my lot,
Still let this soul to thee be true-
Rather than have one bliss forgot,
Be all my pains remember'd too!"

I WISH I WAS BY THAT DIM LAKE.

WISH I was by that dim Lake,
Where sinful souls their farewell take
Of this vain world, and half-way lie
In death's cold shadow, ere they die.
There, there, far from thee,

Deceitful world, my home should be ;
Where, come what might of gloom and pain,

False hope should ne'er deceive again.

The lifeless sky, the mournful sound
Of unseen waters falling round;
The dry leaves, quiv'ring o'er my head,
Like man, unquiet ev'n when dead!

These, ay, these shall wean

My soul from life's deluding scene,

And turn each thought, o'ercharged with gloom,

Like willows, downward tow'rds the tomb.

As they, who to their couch at night
Would win repose, first quench the light,
So must the hopes, that keep this breast
Awake, be quench'd, ere it can rest.
Cold, cold, this heart must grow,

Unmoved by either joy or woe,

Like freezing founts, where all that's thrown

Within their current turns to stone.

ROM rise of morn till set of sun I've seen the mighty Mohawk run; And as I mark'd the woods of pine Along his mirror darkly shine,

Like tall and gloomy forms that pass
Before the wizard's midnight glass ;

And as I view'd the hurrying pace

With which he ran his turbid race,

Rushing, alike untired and wild,

Through shades that frown'd and flowers that smiled,

Flying by every green recess

That woo'd him to its calm caress,

Yet sometimes turning with the wind,

As if to leave one look behind,—

Oft have I thought, and thinking sigh'd,
How like to thee, thou restless tide,
May be the lot, the life of him
Who roams along thy water's brim;
Through what alternate wastes of woe
And flowers of joy my path may go ;
How many a shelter'd, calm retreat
May woo the while my weary feet,
While still pursuing, still unblest,
I wander on, nor dare to rest;
But, urgent as the doom that calls
Thy water to its destined falls,
I feel the world's bewild'ring force
Hurry my heart's devoted course
From lapse to lapse, till life be done,
And the spent current cease to run.

One only prayer I dare to make,
As onward thus my course I take ;-
Oh, be my falls as bright as thine!
May heaven's relenting rainbow shine.
Upon the mist that circles me,
As soft as now it hangs o'er thee!

DRINK TO HER.

RINK to her, who long

Hath waked the poet's sigh,
The girl who gave to song
What gold could never buy.
Oh! woman's heart was made
For minstrel hands alone;
By other fingers play'd,

It yields not half the tone.
Then here's to her, who long

Hath waked the poet's sigh, The girl who gave to song

What gold could never buy.

At Beauty's door of glass,

When Wealth and Wit once stood, They ask'd her, "Which might pass?" She answer'd, "He who could." With golden key Wealth thought To pass-but 't would not do: While Wit a diamond brought, Which cut his bright way through.

So here's to her, who long

Hath waked the poet's sigh,

The girl who gave to song

What gold could never buy.

The love that seeks a home

Where wealth or grandeur shines,

Is like the gloomy gnome,

That dwells in dark gold mines.

But oh! the poet's love

Can boast a brighter sphere;