SHADOWS. BY H. HASTINGS WELD. "What shadows we are, and what shadows we pursue." SKIRTING with gold Heaven's tranquil blue, Hope breaks the sun of manhood's morn. As pale the stars before the day, Melting to nothing in its eye, So fade in young hope's glowing ray, The stars that gemmed the infant's sky. Long, pleasant shadows throws the morning sunHope too, foreshadows large, the good unwon. The sun has risen above the wave It looks down on the mountain's brow- The phantoms with which morn began In hope's bright dawning-where are they; Noon breaks the word of promise made to morn: Hope of its gaudy dawn-dreams all, is shorn. As gilds the west Sol's fading light, The birth-night of another dawn— From whence will break eternal morn: Shadowless day the waking soul will viewMan, perfect made, will shades no more pursue. FLORENCE VANE. BY P. P. COKE. I LOVED thee long and dearly, My life's bright dream and early I renew in my fond vision My heart's dear pain, The ruin lone and hoary, The ruin old Where thou didst hark my story, At even told That spot-the hues Elysian I treasure in my vision, Thou wast lovelier than the roses Of sweetest rhyme; Thy heart was as a river Without a main. Would I had loved thee never, But fairest, coldest, wonder! Lieth the green sod under Alas the day! And it boots not to remember To quicken love's pale ember, The lilies of the valley By young graves weep, The daisies love to dally Where maidens sleep; May their bloom, in beauty vying, Never wane Where thine earthly part is lying, Florence Vane! THE LOVER'S FAREWELL. FAREWELL! BY S. W. CONE. Farewell! Such is the tone That swells but once, and 's heard no more; When all ties break, 'tis sadly thrown The last on life's receding shore, Farewell! Farewell! it hymns the dirge And nought but memory 's left that's dear; Farewell! Farewell! So angels sung, Farewell! Farewell! though sadly sweet And double sweetness will be there!- THE WILD HONEYSUCKLE. BY PHILIP FRENEAU. FAIR flower, that dost so comely grow, By Nature's self in white arrayed, Smit with those charms, that must decay, From morning suns and evening dews If nothing once, you nothing lose, For when you die you are the same; |