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THE PALM TREE.
It waved not through an Eastern sky,
It was not fanned by southern breeze
But fair the exiled Palm-tree grew
Strange looked it there!—the willow streamed Where silvery waters near it gleamed ;
The lime-bough lured the honey bee
To murmur by the desert's tree,
A lustre in its fan-like shade.
There came an eve of festal hours-
But one, a lone one, midst the throng,
And slowly, sadly, moved his plumes,
To him, to him, its rustling spoke,
Had something of the sea-waves moan
His mother's cabin home, that lay
Oh! scorn him not !-the strength, whereby
Th' unconquerable power, which fills
These have one fountain deep and clear
The same whence gushed that child-like tear!
THE MEETING OF THE BROTHERS.
The voices of two forest boys,
Had filled with childhood's merry noise
To rock and stream that sound was known,
The sunny laughter of their eyes
But this, as day-spring's flush, was brief
Alas! 'tis but the withered leaf
That wears the enduring hue!
Those rocks along the Rhine's fair shore,
For now on manhood's verge they stood,
As if a silver clarion woo'd
To some high festival;
And parted as young brothers part,
T'hey parted-soon the paths divide
And making strangers in their course
Met they no more ?-once more they met,
Though the fierce day was well-nigh past,
But as the combat closed, they found
And ev'n upon that bloody ground
And pour d forth on each other's neok
The mists o'er boyhood's memory sprea
The faces of the holy dead
Rose as in vanish'd years :
The Rhine, the Rhine, the ever blessed
Lifted its voice in each full breast!
Oh! was it then a time to die ?
It was!--that not in vain