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Young Joy ne'er thought of counting hours, Till Care, one summer's morning,

Set up, among his smiling flowers,

A dial, by way of warning.

But Joy loved better to gaze on the sun,

As long as its light was glowing,

Like thine doth her exile, 'mid dreams of returning, Die far from the home it were life to behold; Like thine do her sons, in the day of their mourning; Remember the bright things that bless'd them of old.

Than to watch with old Care how the shadow stole Ah, well may we call her, like thee, "the Forsaken,"

on,

And how fast that light was going.
So fill the cup-what is it to us
How Time his circle measures?

The fairy hours we call up thus,
Obey no wand, but Pleasure's.

SAIL ON, SAIL ON.

SAIL on, sail on, thou fearless bark-
Wherever blows the welcome wind,

It cannot lead to scenes more dark,

More sad than those we leave behind. Each wave that passes seems to say,

"Though death beneath our smile may be, "Less cold we are, less false than they,

"Whose smiling wreck'd thy hopes and thee."

Sail on, sail on,-through endless space

Through calm-through tempest-stop no more; The stormiest sea's a resting-place

To him who leaves such hearts on shore. Or-if some desert land we meet,

Where never yet false-hearted men Profaned a world, that else were sweet,Then rest thee, bark, but not till then.

1103

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THE PARALLEL.

YES, sad one of Sion," if closely resembling,

In shame and in sorrow, thy wither'd-up heartIf drinking deep, deep, of the same "cup of trembling,"

Could make us thy children, our parent thou art.

Like thee doth our nation lie conquer'd and broken, And fall'n from her head is the once royal crown;

In her streets, in her halls, Desolation hath spoken, And "while it is day yet, her sun hath gone down."52

DRINK OF THIS CUP.

DRINK of this cup; you'll find there's a spell in
Its every drop 'gainst the ills of mortality;
Talk of the cordial that sparkled for Helen!
Her cup was a fiction, but this is reality.
Would you forget the dark world we are in,
Just taste of the bubble that gleams on the top
of it;

But would you rise above earth, till akin

To Immortals themselves, you must drain every drop of it;

Send round the cup-for oh, there's a spell in

Its every drop 'gainst the ills of mortality; Talk of the cordial that sparkled for Helen! Her cup was a fiction, but this is reality.

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