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When her little bands shall press thee,
Think of him whose prayer shall bless Ihee,
Should her lineameate resemble
Then thy heart will softly tremble
All my faults (perchance thou knowest,
All my hopes, where'er thou goest,
Every feeling hath been shaken;
Pride, which not a world could bow,
Even my soul forsakes me now:
But 'tis done—all words are idle-
But the thoughts we cannot bridle
Fare thee well!—thus disunited,
Torn from every nearer tie,
More than this I scarce can die.
FRIENDSHIP, LOVE, AND TRUTH.
WHEN "Friendship, Love, and Truth" abound
Among a band of Brothers, The cup of joy goes gaily round,
Each shares the bliss of others:
Along this vale of sorrow:
Shall bloom again tomorrow:
On halcyon wings our moments pass,
Life's cruel cares beguiling;
In gay good humour smiling:
His reverend front adorning,
Night soften'd into morning!
From these delightful fountains flow
Ambrosial rills of.pleasure:
A more resplendent treasure?
We'll form a Constellation,
Where every Star, with modest light,
Shall gild his proper station.
W. Reader, 'Jun.
OH! come thou not near my hallow'd home.
Tho' thou art so like the girl I knew,
That my mem'ry loses her form in you;
Tho' the page of thy heart may be fair and true,
As the heart she gave me once to view;
Yet come thou not near my hallow'd cell,
For thou art not she who should break my spell.
Oh! that bosom be thine, if fair its hue;
The stars in the lake shine pale, and blue,
And the stag he is couch'd amid the mountain dew;
The moss-cover'd paths night shadows o'er,
WHILE History's Muse the memorial was keeping
Of all that the dark hand of Destiny weaves,
For hers was the story that blotted the leaves.
"Hail, Star of my Isle!" said the Spirit, all sparkling
With beams, such as break from her own dewy skies;— "Thro' ages of sorrow, deserted and darkling,
"I've watch'd for some glory like thine to arise. "For, tho' Heroes I've numbered, unblest was their lot, "And unhallow'd they sleep in the cross-ways of Fame;— "But, oh! there is not "One dishonouring blot "On the wreath that encircles my WEllington's name!
'- And still the last crown of thy toils is remaining,
'-The grandest, the purest e'en thou hast yet known;
"Tho' proud was thy task, other nations unchaining, '- I'ar prouder to heal the deep wounds of thy own.
"At the foot of that throne, for whose weal thou hast stood, "Go plead for the land that first cradled thy fame—.
"And bright o'er the flood
"Of her tears and her blood "Let the rainbow of Hope be her Wellington's name!
W. Rentier, Jvn.
NIGHT is falling o'er the dark heath,
Our wild path looks drear;
Rain patters o'er the bier.
Where we fought the deathful fray;
Scarce a voice shall swell the lay. The beam of thy youth has shone;
Wc shall bear thee, to thy hills; Thy falcon eyes are dim, and wan,
And our lips thy cold cheek chills.
When the dun-deer starts at evening's wind,
Thro' his branchy horns that sighs; When near him cow'rs the timid hind,
And scarcely breathing lies; When the broad moon redd'ning thro' the mists shall rise,
l^etthy dim form be near; Let a smile be in those pale eyes,
Thy drooping friends to cheer.