Are all now torn from me;

They left me when the trouble came,-
They did not love like thee.

I would not have thee know, mother,
How brightest hopes decay,-
The tempter, with his baneful cup
Has dashed them all away;

And shame has left its venomed sting,
To rack with angush wild!

'Twould grieve thy tender heart, to know The sorrows of thy child.

I'm lonely and forsaken now,

Unpitied and unblest;

Yet still, I would not have thee know
How sorely I'm distressed,

I know thou wouldst not chide, mother,
Thou wouldst not give me pain,
But cheer me with thy softest words,
And bid me hope again.

I know thy tender heart, mother,
Still beats as warm for me,
As when I left thee, long ago,

To cross the broad blue sea ;-
And I love thee just the same, mother,
And I long to hear thee speak,
And feel again thy balmy breath
Upon my care-worn cheek.

But ah! there is a thought, mother,
Pervades my beating breast,—
That thy freed spirit may have flown
To its eternal rest;

And as I wipe the tear away,

There whispers in mine ear

A voice, that speaks of Heaven and thee
And bids me seek thee there.

WEDDED LOVE IN PARADISE.

MILTON.

Hail, wedded love! mysterious law, true source Of human offspring, sole propriety

In Paradise! of all things common else.

By thee, adulterous lust was driven from men,
Among the beastial herds to range; by thee,
Founded in reason, loyal, just, and pure,
Relations dear, and all the charities

Of father, son, and brother, first were known.
Far be it, that I should write thee sin, or blame!
Or think thee unbefitting holiest place ;
Perpetual fountain of domestic sweets!
Whose bed is undefiled, and chaste, pronounced,
Present or past; as saints and patriarchs used.
Here Love his golden shafts employs, here lights
His constant lamp; and waves his purple wings;
Reigns here and revels; not in the bought smile
Of harlots, loveless, joyless, unendeared;
Casual fruition! nor in court amours,

Mixed dance, or wanton mask, or midnight ball
Or serenade, which the starved lover sings
To his proud fair; best quitted with disdain.
These, lulled by nightingales, embracing slept;
And on their naked limbs the flowery roof
Showered roses, which the morn repaired.

LINES TO MY LITTLE BOY,

• ON HIS SECOND BIRTH-DAY.

DAY K. LEE.

Our May-Day dawns at last, my boy,
And from the shouting morn

A glad voice tells us of the joy
That was with thee twin-born!

Thy first young year has rolled its round
Of smiles, and tears, and pains,
And still our life on earth is found,
And still our joy remains.

The Lord take thanks for what he gave

In all that year of bliss!

For wert thou this day in thy grave,
The chastening rod I'd kiss,

And thank him for the few sweet hours

I clasped thee for my own,

And drank thy smiles, and saw the flowers
Of thy young being blown.

Dear heavenly lessons I have ta'en
While watching all thy ways;
And tears of joy, and grief, like rain,
My eyes have wept some days.

Thou art a little milk-white dove,
That through our window came,
To pick thy meal of mortal love,
And our cold hearts inflame.

Thy nest is near the altar warm,
Of God's high dome of light,

And it may be some scarring storm
Will soon haste home thy flight;

But all our life has been more dear,
And home, since thou wert given,
And every hour we hold thee here,

Will seem sent down from heaven..

Thy snowy bosom pressed to mine,
Takes guile and grief away;
Thy soft blue eyes of beauty shine,
And all my soul is day.

Rare charms thy face and form endow,

Thy lips of lilac sweet;

Thy linsey locks, and ivory brow,

And dimpled hands and feet;

Thy laughter like the blue-bird's note;
Thy curious cooing clack,-
With transport set my soul afloat,

And call past pleasures back.

God bless thee, O my bird of hope,
With every tender thing,

And thro' all fields of flight that ope,
Soar with thee wing-and-wing!

God grant thy lovely life, my boy,

Until another May,

And flood thy little heart with joy,
And smile on us who pray!

3*

GIVE ME MY OLD SEAT, MOTHER.

MRS. JUDSON.

Give me my old seat, mother,

With my head upon thy knee;

I've passed through many a changing scene, Since thus I sat by thee.

Oh! let me look into thine eyes

Their meek, soft, loving light

Falls like a gleam of holiness,
Upon my heart to-night.

I've not been long away, mother;
Few suns have rose and set
Since last the tear drop on thy cheek,
My lips in kisses met.

'Tis but a little time, I know,

But very long it seems;

Though every night I come to thee,
Dear mother, in my dreams.

The world has kindly dealt, mother,
By the child thou lov'st so well;
Thy prayers have circled round her path;
And 'twas their holy spell

Which made that path so dearly bright;
Which strewed the roses there;

Which gave the light, and cast the balm
On every breath of air.

I bear a happy heart, mother,
A happier never beat;

And, even now, new buds of hope