The night-storm on a thousand hills is loud; And the strong wind of day doth mingle sea and cloud. On thine unaltering blaze The half-wreck'd mariner, his compass lost, Fixes his steady gaze, And steers undoubting to the friendly coast; And they who stray in perilous wastes by night' Are glad when thou dost shine to guide their footsteps right. And therefore bards of old, Sages, and hermits of the solemn wood, Did in thy beams behold A beauteous type of that Unchanging Good, The voyager of Time should shape his heedful way. THE THIRD OF NOVEMBER. 1861. Softly breathes the West wind beside the ruddy forest, Taking leaf by leaf from the branches where he flies ; Sweetly streams the sunshine this third day of November, Through the golden haze of the quiet autumn skies. Tenderly the season has spared the grassy meadows, Spared the petted flowers that the old world gave the new : Spared the autumn rose and the garden's group of pansies, Late-blown dandelions and periwinkles blue. On my cornice linger the ripe black grapes ungather'd; Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson, Like this kindly season may life's decline come o'er me! Dreary is the time when the flowers of earth are wither'd ; Dreary are the years when the eye can look no longer THOMAS CARLYLE. 1795-1881. ADIEU! Let Time and Chance combine, combine! Let Time and Chance combine! The fairest love from heaven above, That love of yours, was mine, My Dear! That love of yours was mine. The Past is fled and gone, and gone : If nought but pain to me remain, I'll fare in memory on, I'll fare in memory on. My dear! The saddest tears must fall, must fall : The saddest tears must fall : In weal or woe, in this world below, I love you ever and all, My Dear! I love you ever and all. A long road full of pain, of pain : A long road full of pain : One soul, one heart, sworn ne'er to part, We ne'er can meet again, My Dear! We ne'er can meet again. Hard fate will not allow, allow; Hard fate will not allow : We blessed were as the angels are : Adieu for ever now, Adieu for ever now! My Dear! JOHN HAMILTON REYNOLDS. 1794-1852. HOUR AFTER HOUR. Hour after hour departs, Recklessly flying; The golden time of our hearts Is fast a-dying : O, how soon it will have faded! Joy droops, with forehead shaded; When I am gone, O wear Sweet smiles! thy dwelling And near where some rivulet lingers Thy spirit should steep its wing Should give each feature Of thy face a rich lustrous smiling,— Thy thoughts from that gloom beguiling Farewell to our delights! Let our two hearts be wreathing SONG. Go where the water glideth gently ever, And think of me! Wander in forests where the small flower layeth Watch when the sky is silver pale at even, And when the moon riseth as she were dreaming, SHERWOOD FOREST. The trees in Sherwood Forest are old and good, The grass beneath them now is dimly green : Are they deserted all? Is no young mien, With loose-slung bugle, met within the wood? No arrow found, foil'd of its antler'd food, Stuck in the oak's rude side? Is there nought seen To mark the revelries which there have been, HARTLEY COLERIDGE. 1796-1849. SONG. She is not fair to outward view O then I saw her eye was bright, But now her looks are coy and cold, The love-light in her eye: Her very frowns are fairer far Than smiles of other maidens are. WHITHER? Whither is gone the wisdom and the power |