The Voice of Departed Friendship.

I HAD a friend who died in early youth!
And often in those melancholy dreams,

When my soul travels through the umbrage deep
That shades the silent world of memory,

Methinks I hear his voice! sweet as the breath
Of balmy ground-flowers, stealing from some spot
Of sunshine sacred, in a gloomy wood,

To everlasting spring.

In the church-yard

Where now he sleeps-the day before he died,
Silent we sat together on a grave;

Till gently laying his pale hand on mine,
Pale in the moonlight that was coldly sleeping

On heaving sod and marble monument,

This was the music of his last farewell!

"Weep not, my brother! though thou seest me led

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'By short and easy stages, day by day,

"With motion almost imperceptible

"Into the quiet grave. God's will be done.

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Even when a boy, in doleful solitude

"My soul oft sate within the shadow of death!

"And when I looked along the laughing earth,

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Up the blue heavens, and through the middle air "Joyfully ringing with the sky-lark's song,

"I wept! and thought how sad for one so young

To bid farewell to so much happiness.

"But Christ hath called me from this lower world,

'Delightful though it be—and when I gaze

"On the green earth and all its happy hills,

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́T is with such feelings as a man beholds "A little farm which he is doomed to leave "On an appointed day. Still more and more He loves it as that mournful day draws near, “ But hath prepared his heart- and is resigned." -Then lifting up his radiant eyes to heaven, He said with fervent voice-"O what were life "Even in the warm and summer-light of joy "Without those hopes, that, like refreshing gales "At evening from the sea, come o'er the soul "Breathed from the ocean of eternity.

"And oh! without them who could bear the storms "That fall in roaring blackness o'er the waters

"Of agitated life! Then hopes arise

“All round our sinking souls, like those fair birds

"O'er whose soft plumes the tempest hath no power,

'Waving their snow-white wings amid the darkness, "And wiling us with gentle motion, on

"To some calm Island! on whose silvery strand

'Dropping at once, they fold their silent pinions,"And as we touch the shores of paradise

"In love and beauty walk around our feet!"

PROFESSOR WILSON

FROM

The Castle of Indolence.

In lowly dale, fast by a river's side,

With woody hill o'er hill encompassed round,
A most enchanting wizard did abide,

Than whom a fiend more fell is no where found.

It was, I ween, a lovely piece of ground:

And there a season atween June and May,

Half prankt with Spring, with Summer half embrowned,

A listless climate made, where, sooth to say,

No living wight could work, ne' cared even for play:

Was nought around but images of rest:
Sleep-soothing groves, and quiet lawns between;
And flowery beds that slumberous influence kest,
From poppies breathed; and beds of pleasant green,
Where never yet was creeping creature seen.
Meantime unnumbered glittering streamlets played,
And hurled every where their waters sheen;
That, as they bickered through the sunny glade,
Though restless still themselves, a lulling murmur made.
Joined to the prattle of the purling rills,
Were heard the lowing herds along the vale,
And flocks loud bleating from the distant hills,
And vacant shepherds piping in the dale:

And now and then sweet Philomel would wail,
Or stock-doves 'plain amid the forest deep,
That drowsy rustled to the sighing gale;
And still a coil the grasshopper did keep:
Yet all these sounds y-blent inclined all to sleep.

Full in the passage of the vale above,

A sable, silent, solemn forest stood;

Where nought but shadowy forms were seen to move,
As Idlesse fancied in her dreaming mood:

And up the hills, on either side, a wood

Of blackening pines, aye waving to and fro,
Sent forth a sleepy horror through the blood;
And where this valley winded out, below,

The murmuring main was heard, and scarcely heard, to flow

A pleasing land of drowsy-head it was,

Of dreams that wave before the half-shut eye;
And of gay castles in the clouds that pass,
For ever flushing round a summer sky:
There eke the soft delights, that witchingly
Instil a wanton sweetness through the breast,
And the calm pleasures always hovered nigh;
But whate'er smacked of noyance or unrest,
Was far, far off expelled from this delicious nest.

The landskip such, inspiring perfect ease,
Where Indolence (for so the wizard hight)
Close hid his castle 'mid embowering trees,
That half shut out the beams of Phoebus bright,
And made a kind of chequered day and night;
Meanwhile, unceasing at the massy gate,

Beneath a spacious palm, the wicked wight
Was placed, and to his lute, of cruel fate,

And labour harsh, complained, lamenting man's estate.

The doors, that knew no shrill alarming bell,
No cursed knocker plied by villain's hand,
Self-opened into halls, where who can tell
What elegance and grandeur wide expand,
The pride of Turkey and of Persia land?
Soft quilts on quilts, on carpets carpets spread,
And couches stretched around in seemly band,
And endless pillows rise to prop the head;
So that each spacious room was one full-swelling bed.

And every where huge covered tables stood,
With wines high flavoured, and rich viands crowned:
Whatever sprightly juice or tasteful food

On the green bosom of this earth are found.
And all old Ocean 'genders in his round;
Some hand unseen these silently displayed,
E'en undemanded by a sign or sound;

You need but wish, and, instantly obeyed,

Fair ranged the dishes rose, and thick the glasses played.

The rooms with costly tapestry were hung,
Where was inwoven many a gentle tale,
Such as of old the rural poets sung,

Or of Arcadian or Sicilian vale;
Reclining lovers, in the lonely dale

Poured forth at large the sweetly tortured heart,
Or, sighing tender passion, swelled the gale,

And taught charmed Echo to resound their smart,

While flocks, woods, streams, around, repose and peace impart.