TO A WANDERING FEMALE SINGER. 209

TO A WANDERING FEMALE SINGER.

THOU hast loved and thou hast suffer'd!
Unto feeling deep and strong,

Thou hast trembled like a harp's frail string-
I know it by thy song!

Thou hast loved-it may be vainly

But well-oh! but too well

Thou hast suffer'd all that woman's breast

May bear-but must not tell.

Thou hast wept and thou hast parted,

Thou hast been forsaken long,

Thou hast watch'd for steps that came not back— I know it by thy song!

By the low clear silvery gushing

Of its music from thy breast,

By the quivering of its flute-like swell

A sound of the heart's unrest.

By its fond and plaintive lingering,
On each word of grief so long,

Oh! thou hast loved and suffer'd much-
I know it by thy song!

18*

THE PALMER.

"The faded palm branch in his hand,

Show'd pilgrim from the Holy Land."

SCOTT.

ART thou come from the far-off land at last?

Thou that hast wander'd long!

Thou art come to a home whence the smile hath

pass'd

With the merry voice of song.

For the sunny glance and the bounding heart

Thou wilt seek—but all are gone;

They are parted e'en as waters part,

To meet in the deep alone!

And thou-from thy lip is fled the glow,
From thine eye the light of morn;

And the shades of thought o'erhang thy brow,
And thy cheek with life is worn.

Say what hast thou brought from the distant shore For thy wasted youth to pay?

Hast thou treasure to win thee joys once more? Hast thou vassals to smooth thy way?

"I have brought but the palm-branch in my hand, Yet I call not my bright youth lost!

I have won but high thought in the Holy Land, Yet I count not too dear the cost!

THE CHILD'S FIRST GRIEF.

"I look on the leaves of the deathless treeThese records of my track;

And better than youth in its flush of glee,

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Are the memories they give me back!

They speak of toil, and of high emprise,

As in words of solemn cheer,

They speak of lonely victories

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O'er pain, and doubt, and fear.

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They speak of scenes which have now become
Bright pictures in my breast;

Where my spirit finds a glorious home,
And the love of my heart can rest.

"The colours pass not from these away,
Like tints of shower or sun;

Oh! beyond all treasures that know decay,
Is the wealth my soul hath won!

"A rich light thence o'er my life's decline,
An inborn light is cast;

For the sake of the palm from the holy shrine,
I bewail not my bright days past!"

THE CHILD'S FIRST GRIEF.

"Он! call my brother back to me !
I cannot play alone;

The Summer comes with flower and bee-
Where is my brother gone?

"The butterfly is glancing bright
Across the sunbeam's track;

I care not now to chase its flight—
Oh! call my brother back!

"The flowers run wild-the flowers we sow'd

Around our garden tree;

Our vine is drooping with its load

Oh! call him back to me!"

"He would not hear thy voice, fair child,
He may not come to thee;

The face that once like Spring-time smiled,
On earth no more thou'lt see.

"A rose's brief bright life of joy,
Such unto him was given;
Go-thou must play alone, my boy!
Thy brother is in heaven."

"And has he left his birds and flowers;

And must I call in vain?

And through the long, long summer hours,
Will he not come again?

"And by the brook and in the glade
Are all our wanderings o'er?
Oh! while my brother with me play'd,
Would I had loved him more!”

TO THE NEW-BORN.

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TO THE NEW-BORN.1

A BLESSING on thy head, thou child of many hopes and fears!

A rainbow-welcome thine hath been, of mingled smiles and tears.

Thy father greets thee unto life, with a full and chasten'd heart,

For a solemn gift from God thou com'st, all precious as thou art!

I see thee not asleep, fair boy, upon thy mother's breast,

Yet well I know how guarded there shall be thy rosy rest;

And how her soul with love, and prayer, and gladness, will o'erflow,

While bending o'er thy soft-seal'd eyes, thou dear one, well I know!

A blessing on thy gentle head! and bless'd thou art in truth,

For a home where God is felt, awaits thy childhood and thy youth:

Around thee pure and holy thoughts shall dwell as light and air,

And steal unto thine heart, and wake the germs now folded there.

1

1 Addressed to the child of her eldest brother.