It hath a thousand tongues of mirth, And every heart is gladder made, INDIAN CHANT. BY H. R. SCHOOLCRAFT. FIRST VOICE. THE eagles scream on high, SECOND VOICE. 'Tis fame my soul desires, THIRD VOICE. The deer a while may go Unhunted o'er the heath, For now I seek a nobler foe, FOURTH VOICE. Lance and quiver, club and bow, I will fight where warriors fight. FIFTH VOICE. Now my heart with valour burns, Give him fagot, fire, and stake. SIXTH VOICE. See my visage scarred and red See my brows with trophies brightSuch the brows that warriors dread, Such the trophies of the fight. THE SPORTIVE SYLPHS. BY S. G. GOODRICH. THE sportive sylphs that course the air, Unseen on wings that twilight weaves, Around the opening rose repair, And breathe sweet incense o'er its leaves. With sparkling cups of bubbles made, They gather gems with sunbeams bright, From floating clouds and falling showers, They rob Aurora's locks of light To grace their own fair queen of flowers. Thus, thus adorned, the speaking rose Of things that words can ne'er disclose, Then take my flower, and let its leaves The thought it whispers to thine ear. WHEN FIRST I GAZED, OH! LADY FAIR. BY AMELIA B. WELBY. WHEN first I gazed, oh! lady fair, I thought thou wert a thing of light, And as I looked upon thy brow, Pure as the skies when bright above, I would not breathe, oh! lady fair, For though I feel thy gentle thoughts Around thy heart, oh! lady fair, I need not wish a brighter spell Of loveliness about thee move, For round thy form there lurks a charm DO I LOVE THEE? BY MRS. V. E. HOWARD. IF to feel the deep devotion Every look, and every sign, Once the future spread before me Now such thought seems worthless vision, |