3 Giver of all !-both evening star and home-
And mercies countless,-through Thy blessing come.
Giver of all! make star and home to guide
Thy wandering people nearer to Thy side.
Giver of all! let this their blessing be,
That all Thy gifts uplift their hearts to Thee.
I BACKWARD, turn backward, O Time! in your flight;
Make me a child again, just for to-night;
Mother, come back from that echoless shore,
Take me again to your heart as of yore.
Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care,
Smooth the few silver threads out from my hair ;
Over my slumbers your loving watch keep ;-
Rock me to sleep, mother! Rock me to sleep!
2 Backwark, turn backward, oh! tide of years,
I have grown weary of toil and of tears;
Toil, without recompense, tears all in vain,
Take them and give me my childhood again!
I have grown weary of dust and decay,
Weary of throwing my soul's health away;
Weary of sowing for others to reap;
Rock me to sleep, mother! Rock me to sleep!
3 Over my heart in the days that are flown,
No love like a mother's love ever has shone ;
No other worship abides and endures,
Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours;
None like a mother can soothe away pain
From the pleasure-sick soul and the world-weary
Slumber's sweet calm o'er my heavy lids creep ;-
Rock me to sleep, mother! Rock me to sleep!
4 Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue,
Mother, oh! mother, my heart calls for you;
Many a summer the grass has grown green,
Blossom'd and faded, our faces between ;
Yet, with strong yearning and passionate pain,
Long I to-night for your presence again;
Come from your silence so long and so deep-
Rock me to sleep, mother! Rock me to sleep!
5 Come, let your brown hair just shaded with gold, Fall on your shoulders again as of old;
Let it drop over my forehead to-night,
Shading my faint eyes away from the light;
For, with its sunny-edged shadows once more,
Haply will rise the sweet visions of yore;
Lovingly, softly, its bright willows sweep-
Rock me to sleep, mother! Rock me to sleep!
6 Mother, dear mother! the years have seem'd long
Since last I heard your soft lullaby song;
Since then, and unto my soul it shall seem,
Womanhood's years have been only a dream;
Clasp'd to your heart in a loving embrace,
With your long lashes just shading my face;
Never hereafter to wake or to weep,-
Rock me to sleep, mother! Rock me to sleep!
I COME to me, dreams of Heaven!
My fainting spirit bear
On your bright wings, by morning given,
Up to celestial air.
Away, far, far away,
From bowers by tempests riven,
Fold me in blue, still, cloudless day,
O blessed dreams of Heaven!
2 Come but for one brief hour,
Sweet dreams, and yet again
O'er burning thought and memory shower
Your soft effacing rain!
Waft me where gales divine
With dark clouds ne'er have striven,
Where living founts for ever shine
O blessed dreams of Heaven!
1 WE are growing old-how the thought will rise, When a glance is backward cast
On some long-remembered spot, that lies
In the silence of the past:
It may be the shrine of our early vows,
Or the tomb of early tears,
But it seems like a far-off isle to us,
In the stormy sea of years.
2 Oh! wide and wild are the waves that part
Our steps from its greenness now-
And we miss the joy of many a heart,
And the light of many a brow;
For deep o'er many a stately bark
Have the whelming billows roll'd,
That steer'd with us from that early mark-
Oh! friends, we are growing old!
3 Old in the dimness and the dust
Of our daily toils and cares,
Old in the wrecks of love and trust
Which our burden'd memory bears.
Each form may wear to the passing gaze
The bloom of life's freshness yet,
And beams may brighten our latter days
Which the morning never met.
4 But oh! the changes we have seen
In the far and winding way-
The graves in our path that have grown green,
And the locks that have grown grey !
The winters still on our own may spare
The sable or the gold;
But we saw their snows upon brighter hair-
And, friends, we are growing old!
5 We have gain'd the world's cold wisdom now,
We have learn'd to pause and fear-
But where are the living founts, whose flow
Was a joy of heart to hear?
We have won the wealth of many a clime,
And the lore of many a page—
But where is the hope that saw in Time
But its boundless heritage.
6 Will it come again when the violet wakes,
And the woods their youth renew;
We have stood in the light of sunny brakes,
Where the bloom was deep and blue;
And our souls might joy in the spring-time then,
But the joy was faint and cold-
For it ne'er could give us the youth again
Of hearts that are growing old.
I THEY grew in beauty side by side,
They fill'd one home with glee ;-
Their graves are sever'd, far and wide,
By mount, and stream, and sea;
The same fond mother bent at night
O'er each fair sleeping brow;
She had each folded flower in sight-
Where are those dreamers now?
2 One, 'mid the forest of the west,
By a dark stream is laid-
The Indian knows his place of rest,
Far in the cedar shade.
The sea, the lone blue sea, hath one-
He lies where pearls lie deep;
He was the loved of all, yet none
O'er his low bed may weep.
3 One sleeps where southern vines are drest
Above the noble slain;
He wrapp'd his colours round his breast
On a blood-red field of Spain;
And one-o'er her the myrtle showers
Its leaves, by soft winds fann'd ;
She faded 'midst Italian flowers-
The last of that bright band.
4 And parted thus they rest, who play'd
Beneath the same green tree;
Whose voices mingled as they pray'd
Around one parent knee !
They that with smiles lit up the hall,
And cheer'd with song the hearth
Alas! for love, if thou wert all,
And nought beyond, O earth!
I IN the year never mind-'tis a long time ago:
Without friend, or protector, or pelf;
I was left by my dad, a mere slip of a lad,
To shift as I could for myself:
A pleasant look-out for a youngster, no doubt;
But I made up my mind to this plan :
To face as I may, just what fell in my way,
And to do what I must-"Like a man.
2 Of the ups and the downs, and the smiles and the frowns, That one meets in the battle of life,
Of sorrow and care, I at least had my share,
And more than was pleasant of strife.
What then? I fought on, till the battle was won,
By doing what any one can,
Namely come as they might, thick and thin, left and right
"Looking facts in the face- Like a man.'
3 And now looking back, on the well-beaten track
I have travell'd to reach where I am,
I adhere to my creed-" Any man may succeed
That is not a slave or a sham."
And now at life's close, having earn'd my repose,
I hope, and intend if I can,
Men shall write on my grave-"He was honest and
And he went through the world—‘Like å man.
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