LEGENDARY STANZAS.

BY J. B. THOMPSON, ESQ.

On the top of Ben Nevis, the snow shines bright,— No foot but my own shall print it;

For the feathery feet of my own dear sprite,

As he springs to my arms, never dint it!—
When eve paints the sky with her rosy hues,
And the gorgeous sun is declining,

I fly to suck, from him, the tender dews
Of love, on his breast reclining!

Then, his dove-like wings around me curled,-
Oh, heart! is it not a sweet pillow!

And is it not sweet-to that bosom furled-
To be rocked on its gentle billow ;-

To tell all I can of my virgin flame,
And those lingering days of sadness,

Ere my love had fulfilled the fanciful dream,

And breathed, through my frame, all its gladness!

"Oh, never!" I said, "shall a child of earth Mix, with mine, the warm breathings of passion,

For there are spirits of heavenly birth,

Who, for love, leave their blissful station !"— And, in radiant light, before me he stood,

And sweet were his coveted kisses ;And ne'er was a maiden's soul so wooed, Or steeped in such balmy blisses!

He left the bright bowers of Paradise,

And its fragrance he breathed around me ;-
And its splendour still shone in his glowing eyes,
As in softest embraces he bound me !--
But hark! 'tis the hour!-I come to thee, love!
Oh! had I, too, thy wings of beauty,

How swift through the mountain airs would I move,
To yield to soft passion her duty!

THE LOVER ON THE FIELD OF BATTLE.

FROM THE GERMAN.

I LOOKED upon the battle plain,

I saw the silent hero lie,—

I saw the life-blood's deepest stain
Darken the light of chivalry!

Though cleft the brow-the bosom gored,
Still bore his arm the dinted shield;
Still grasped his hand the broken sword,
Shedding a light around the field.

He died-as warriors love to die

In victory's proud and burning clasp ;
And, from that red throne, sprung on high,
Smiling on death's ensanguined grasp !

-I saw the lover wandering by,

With wan cold cheek and nerveless air,

He pressed his heart,—I heard him sigh,

-Oh! what wild thoughts were gathering there!

The dreamy past had lit his brow,
With the soft light of love's sweet bliss
Then came the dread awakening now,
And scared him with her withering kiss!

I saw him start at one loved name,-
I marked his thickly panting breath,-
-Rather than live that life of shame,
Hail, battle field!-hail, glorious death!

TO AN INFANT.

THOU wak'st from happy sleep, to play,
With bounding heart, my boy!
Before thee lies a long, bright day

Of summer and of joy!

Thou hast no heavy thought or dream,
To cloud thy fearless eye;—

Long be it thus !-life's early stream
Should still reflect the sky!

Yet, ere the cares of earth lie dim,

On thy young spirit's wings,—
Now, in thy morn, forget not Him
From whom each pure thought springs!

So, in thy onward vale of tears,

Where'er thy path may be,

When strength hath bowed to evil years,—

He will remember thee!

F. H.