XIX.

THE NIGHT-WALK.-TO MY SISTERS.

1.

Where wealth with lavish hand had made the spot

All that pure taste could wish it:-When the light
Shrouded it in the mantle of the night,

While Echo watched o'er Silence in the grot
Where she lay pulseless-We, whose happy lot
It was to prove how love and joy unite
With the sublime, the beautiful, the bright,
Long, long shall hold that ramble unforgot.
Luxuriant groups of Autumn flowers had gone
To sleep, with unbreathed fragrance on their lips,
And all the laurel-leaves about the lawn

Suspended held a jewel at their tips,

That glittered into light, where the moon's dawn
Met from the cedar-trees with no eclipse.

XX.

2.

We talked of home, and all who loved us there;
How Time had fleeted by; how ties like ours
Were gentle influences, yea, holy powers
To gladden life, to sooth or banish care :
How God's beneficence is everywhere!

Gives fragrance and soft beauty to the flowers,
To stars their splendour, and the spirit dowers
With sense of rapture at a scene so fair!
Grateful are we, that we had power to glean
From Nature aught to purify within :
And that the loveliness of such a scene
Unto our better feelings was akin :

That hour with you, dear girls, shall often wean

My thoughts from out this city's ceaseless din.

XXI.

THE FAREWELL.

We part to-day-the hour is drawing near
When I must bid these charming scenes adieu;
And should it be that I may ne'er renew

The friendship and the love now held so dear-
Then shall the tribute of a dewy tear

Refresh affection-make it bloom anew,

And fancy paint the past in her bright hue, A miniature for Memory's neck to wear.

So let the fervent pressure of this kiss

Speak more than tongue would vainly seek to tell; Language grows weak in parting hours like this

Our eyes' last lingering look shall break the spell; My heartfelt prayer-be thine all earthly bliss!

My soul-breathed sigh-Farewell-again Farewell!

XXII.

THE REMEMBRANCE.

How oft my memory brings the hour we met
Back to my heart with feelings of delight,
And those soft eyes that did my soul excite,
In all their loveliness of feature set:

Asleep, my fervid dreamings still beget,

That grove, those wilding flowers, that moonlit night, That shows thee still to my enraptured sightWhile floats a whisper, "Thou dost not forget." Too warmly loving, and too warmly loved;

Young, passionate, with lovers' hope elate; Pleasing and pleased, our bosoms soon were moved, Soon disunited by a wayward fate : Two hearts so blended, surely never proved A union sweeter, nor of shorter date.

XXIII.

SPRING IN LONDON.

1.

Mother! why seemeth, when the joyous Spring
Reanimates the earth with flowers and song,

My toil more wearying, and the day more long
Than any that the dullest winters bring?

It must be, that I yearn aside to fling

The yoke that binds me to th' o'erlaboured throng, And ramble forth my native scenes among,

Boy-like, to go again a violeting.

Remembering the rapturous glee I had

To bring my flowers and grasses to thy view,

I sometimes feel, there's nought on earth would glad

My spirit so, could I that joy renew;

But shut from scenes where they in beauty grew,

What marvel, Mother, that I'm sometimes sad?