"OH, FOR THE SKYLARK'S WING, THAT SEEKS ITS MATE AS A STAR SHOOTS!"-MRS. HEMANS.

"SING TO YOUR SONS THOSE MELODIES,

CŒUR DE LION AT THE BIER OF HIS FATHER. 217

"TOO MUCH WE GIVE UNTO THE THINGS THAT PERISH: SO MUST IT EVER END."-MRS. HEMANS.

"O HAPPINESS, HOW FAR WE FLEE THINE OWN SWEET PATHS IN SEARCH OF THEE!"-MRS. HEMANS.

"" 'FEARFULLY, WONDROUSLY OUR SOULS ARE MADE

218 CŒUR DE LION AT THE BIER OF HIS FATHER.

"Thy silver hairs I see,

So still, so sadly bright!

And father, father! but for me

They had not been so white!

I bore thee down, high heart! at last

No longer couldst thou strive;
Oh, for one moment of the past
To kneel and say, 'Forgive!'

"Thou wert the noblest king

On royal throne e'er seen;

And thou didst wear, in knightly ring,

Of all the stateliest mien ;

And thou didst prove, where spears are proved

In war, the bravest heart

Oh, ever the renowned and loved

Thou wert ;-and there thou art!

"Thou, that my boyhood's guide

Didst take fond joy to be !—
The times I've sported by thy side,

And climbed the parent-knee!
And there before the blessed shrine,
My sire! I see thee lie;

How will that still sad face of thine
Look on me till I die !"

[MRS. HEMANS.]

LET US WALK HUMBLY ON, BUT UNDISMAYED."-HEMANS.

"KNOWLEDGE STRIVES IN VAIN TO FEEL HER WAY AMIDST THE MARVELS OF THE MIND."-MRS. HEMANS.

"THE WIND, THE WANDERING WIND OF THE GOLDEN SUMMER EVES"-(MRS. HEMANS)

66

EARTH MUST TAKE EARTH TO MOULDER ON HER BREAST."-HEMANS.

66

COME, I come! ye have called me long;

I come o'er the mountains with light and song.

Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,
By the primrose stars in the shadowy grass,
By the green leaves opening as I pass.

earth,

I have breathed on the south, and the chestnut flowers
By thousands have burst from the forest bowers;
And the ancient graves and the fallen fanes
Are veiled with wreaths on Italian plains:
But it is not for me, in my hour of bloom,
To speak of the ruin or the tomb.

I have looked o'er the hills of the stormy north,
And the larch has hung all his tassels forth;
And the fisher is out on the sunny sea,
And the rein-deer bounds o'er the pastures free;
And the pine has a fringe of softer green,

And the moss looks bright, where my foot hath been.

I have sent through the wood-paths a glowing sigh,
And called out each voice of the deep blue sky;

AND WHAT IS HOME, AND WHERE, BUT WITH THE LOVING?"-HEMANS.

"WHENCE IS THE THRILLING MAGIC OF ITS TONES AMONG THE LEAVES?"-MRS. HEMANS.

"IT MAY BE THAT EACH DAY WE TREAD WHERE THUS DEVOTED HEARTS HAVE BLED."-HEMANS.

220

66

OH, THE GLAD SOUNDS OF THE JOYOUS EARTH! MRS. HEMANS.

THE VOICE OF SPRING.

From the night-bird's lay through the starry time
In the groves of the soft Hesperian clime,
To the swan's wild note by the Iceland lakes,

Where the dark fir branch into verdure breaks.

From the streams and founts I have loosed the chain :
They are sweeping on to the silvery main.
They are flashing down from the mountain brows,
They are flinging spray o'er the forest boughs,
They are bursting fresh from their sparry caves,
And the earth resounds with the joy of waves.

Come forth, O ye children of gladness, come!
Where the violets lie may be now your home.
Ye of the rose-lip and dew-bright eye,

And the bounding footstep, to meet me fly!
With the lyre, and the wreath, and the joyous lay,
Come forth to the sunshine: I may not stay.

Away from the dwellings of care-worn men,
The waters are sparkling in grove and glen :
Away from the chamber and sullen hearth,
The young leaves are dancing in breezy mirth.
Their light stems thrill to the wild-wood strains,
And youth is abroad in my green domains.
[MRS. HEMANS.]

"THEY COME WITH A BREATH FROM THE FRESH SPRING-TIME."-HEMANS.

“OH, ASK NOT, HOPE THOU NOT, TOO MUCH OF SYMPATHY BELOW!"-MRS. HEMANS.

"WHAT IS GLORY, WHAT IS FAME?

THE ECHO OF A LONG-LOST NAME"-(WILLIAM MOTHERWELL)

66

FACTS FROM FAIRYLAND.
"Oh, then, I see, Queen Mab hath been with you!"-SHAKSPEARE.

ONE COMMON END O'ERTAKES LIFE'S IDLE DREAMING."-MOTHERWELL.

66

SWEEP TOWARDS HEAVEN WITH TIRELESS WING."- MOTHERWELL.

"A FLOWER THAT BLOSSOMS FOR A DAY, DYING NEXT MORROW."-WILLIAM MOTHERWELL.