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THE CHILD'S FIRST GRIEF.

"I look on the leaves of the deathless treeThese records of my track;

And better than youth in its flush of glee,

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Are the memories they give me back!

They speak of toil, and of high emprise,

As in words of solemn cheer,

They speak of lonely victories

O'er pain, and doubt, and fear.

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"They speak of scenes which have now become

Bright pictures in my breast;

Where my spirit finds a glorious home,
And the love of my heart can rest.

"The colours pass not from these away,
Like tints of shower or sun;

Oh! beyond all treasures that know decay,
Is the wealth my soul hath won!

"A rich light thence o'er my life's decline,
An inborn light is cast;

For the sake of the palm from the holy shrine,
I bewail not my bright days past!"

THE CHILD'S FIRST GRIEF.

"Он! call my brother back to me!
I cannot play alone;

The Summer comes with flower and bee-
Where is my brother gone?

"The butterfly is glancing bright
Across the sunbeam's track;

I care not now to chase its flight-
Oh! call my brother back!

"The flowers run wild-the flowers we sow'd

Around our garden tree;

Our vine is drooping with its load

Oh! call him back to me!"

"He would not hear thy voice, fair child,
He may not come to thee;

The face that once like Spring-time smiled,
On earth no more thou'lt see.

"A rose's brief bright life of joy,
Such unto him was given;
Go-thou must play alone, my boy!
Thy brother is in heaven."

"And has he left his birds and flowers;

And must I call in vain?

And through the long, long summer hours,
Will he not come again?

"And by the brook and in the glade
Are all our wanderings o'er?

Oh! while my brother with me play'd,
Would I had loved him more!"

TO THE NEW-BORN.

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TO THE NEW-BORN.1

A BLESSING on thy head, thou child of many hopes and fears!

A rainbow-welcome thine hath been, of mingled smiles and tears.

Thy father greets thee unto life, with a full and chasten'd heart,

For a solemn gift from God thou com'st, all precious as thou art!

I see thee not asleep, fair boy, upon thy mother's breast,

Yet well I know how guarded there shall be thy rosy rest;

And how her soul with love, and prayer, and gladness, will o'erflow,

While bending o'er thy soft-seal'd eyes, thou dear one, well I know!

A blessing on thy gentle head! and bless'd thou art in truth,

For a home where God is felt, awaits thy childhood and thy youth:

Around thee pure and holy thoughts shall dwell as light and air,

And steal unto thine heart, and wake the germs now folded there.

1 Addressed to the child of her eldest brother.

Smile on thy mother! while she feels that unto her

is given,

In that young day-spring glance the pledge of a soul to rear for heaven!

Smile! and sweet peace be o'er thy sleep, joy o'er thy wakening shed!

Blessings and blessings evermore, fair boy! upon thy head!

THE DEATH-SONG OF ALCESTIS.

SHE came forth in her bridal robes array'd,
And 'midst the graceful statues, round the hall
Shedding the calm of their celestial mien,
Stood pale yet proudly beautiful, as they:
Flowers in her bosom, and the star-like gleam
Of jewels trembling from her braided hair,
And death upon her brow!-but glorious death!
Her own heart's choice, the token and the seal
Of love, o'ermastering love; which, till that hour,
Almost an anguish in the brooding weight
Of its unutterable tenderness,

Had burden'd her full soul. But now,

oh! now,

Its time was come-and from the spirit's depths, The passion and the mighty melody

Of its immortal voice, in triumph broke,

Like a strong rushing wind!

The soft pure air

Came floating through that hall-the Grecian air, Laden with music-flute-notes from the vales,

THE DEATH-SONG OF ALCESTIS.

Echoes of song-the last sweet sounds of life
And the glad sunshine of the golden clime
Stream'd, as a royal mantle, round her form-
The glorified of love! But she-she look'd
Only on him for whom 'twas joy to die,
Deep-deepest, holiest joy!—or if a thought
Of the warm sunlight, and the scented breeze,
And the sweet Dorian songs, o'erswept the tide
Of her unswerving soul-'t was but a thought
That own'd the summer loveliness of life
For him a worthy offering!-So she stood
Wrapt in bright silence, as entranced awhile
Till her eye kindled, and her quivering frame
With the swift breeze of inspiration shook,
As the pale priestess trembles to the breath
Of inborn oracles!- then flush'd her cheek,
And all the triumph, all the agony,

Borne on the battling waves of love and, death,
All from her woman's heart, in sudden song,
Burst like a fount of fire.

"I go, I go!

Thou sun, thou golden sun, I go

Far from thy light to dwell:

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Thou shalt not find my place below, Dim is that world-bright sun of Greece, farewell!

"The laurel and the glorious rose
Thy glad beam yet may see,
But where no purple summer glows,

O'er the dark wave I haste from them and thee.

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