Across the everlasting Alp I poured the torrent of my powers, And feeble Cæsars shrieked for help, In vain, within their seven-hilled towers; In the purple of their majesty, My course is run, my errand done; But never yet shall set the sun Of glory that adorns my name; And Roman hearts shall long be sick, When men shall think of Alaric. My course is run, my errand done ; And in the caves of vengeance, wait; THE LAST EVENING BEFORE ETERNITY. BY J. A. HILLHOUSE. By this, the sun his westering car drove low: The heavenly legions, the assembled world, Round I gazed, Where, in the purple west, no more to dawn, Mild twinkling through a crimson-skirted cloud While gazing wistful on that peerless light, In dreams, strange images will mix,) sad thoughts DEATH OF AN INFANT. BY L. H. SIGOURNEY. DEATH found strange beauty on that polished brow, And dashed it out. There was a tint of rose On cheek and lip;-he touched the veins with ice, And the rose faded. Forth from those blue eyes There spake a wishful tenderness—a doubt Whether to grieve or sleep, which innocence Alone may wear. With ruthless haste, he bound The silken fringes of those curtaining lids For ever. There had been a murmuring sound, With which the babe would claim its mother's ear, Charming her even to tears. The spoiler set The seal of silence. But there beamed a smile So fixed and holy from that cherub browDeath gazed, and left it there;-He dared not steal The signet-ring of Heaven. THE SMILE OF INNOCENCE. BY L. M. DAVIDSON. THERE is a smile of bitter scorn, Which curls the lip, which lights the eye; There is a smile in beauty's morn Just rising o'er the midnight sky. There is a smile of youthful joy, When hope's bright star's the transient guest; There is a smile of placid age, Like sunset on the billow's breast. There is a smile, the maniac's smile, Which lights the void which reason leaves, And, like the sunshine through a cloud, Throws shadows o'er the song she weaves. There is a smile of love, of hope, Which shines a meteor through life's gloom; And there's a smile, Religion's smile, Which lights the weary to the tomb. There is a smile, an angel smile, That sainted souls behind them leave; There is a smile which shines through toil, And warms the bosom, though in grief. |