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But oh, more soft, more tender, breathing more
A thought of pity than in vanishi'd days; While hoy'ring silently and brightly o'er
The lone one's head, they meet hier spirit's gaze With their immortal eyes, they seem to say, “ Yet sister! yet we love theecome away
!" 'Twill fade, the radiant dream! and will she not
Wake with more painful yearning at her heart? Will not her home seem yet a lonelier spot,
Her task more sad, when those bright shadows pari ? And the green summer after them look dim, And sorrow's tone be in the bird's wild hynin ? But let her hope be strong, and let the dead
Visit her soul in heaven's calm beauty still;
Yet round the place they never more may fill
THE FOUNTAIN OF MARAH.
" And when they came to Marah, they could not drink of the waters of Marah, for they were bitter.
" And the people murmured against Moses, saying, What shall we drink?
“ And he cried unto the Lord ; and the Lord shewed him a tree, which,, when he had cast into the waters, the waters were made sweet."--Exod. xv. 23.-25.
WHERE is the tree the prophet threw,
Into the bitter wave ?
The thirsty soul to save ?
Its precious foliage shed ?
With such sweet leaves o'erspread!
Nay, wherefore ask ?-since gifts are ours,
Which yet may well imbue,
many troubled founts with showers
Let faith's deep spirit be,
From that blest healing tree!
THE MEMORIAL PILLAR.
Hast thou through Eden's wild wood vales pursued
Pleasures of Memory.
Have sanctified the place,
Was given one last embrace;
A still small under tone,
With many å treasure gone;.
Which marks your parting spot,
The one love changing not?
O'er whose bright honored head
Even here were fondly shed ;
Thou from the passion of thy grief
The mighit wlierewith it swells,
of Nature's mingling dwells, And thou hadst not, by wrong or pride, Poison'd the free and healthful tide. But didst thou meet the face no more
Which thy young heart first knew?
Witb ties thus close and true ?
Where deep within thy breast,
With menory lay at rest;
Its lone memorial keeps,
The quiet sunshine sleeps,
The impress of the dead,
As of a vision fled ?
To thoughts that breathe despair;
Life's farewell words to bear! Mother and child !-your tears are sastSurely your hearts have met al last
THE STRANGER'S HEART.
THE stranger's heart! oh, wound it not !
DEATH AND THE WARRIOR.
" Ay, warrior, arm! and wear thy piume
On a proud and fearless brow!
And a mightier one than thou !
Bid her a long farewell !
Like the morning's dew shall pass that grief
Thou comest with me to dwell!
Thy steed o'er the breezy bill;
Narrow, and cold, and chill!" “Was the voice I heard, thy voice, O Death ?
And is thy day so near?
Mingle with Victory's cheer!
Above me as I die!
Under the Syrian sky.
When the minstrel names that spot;
Death! Death! I fear thee not." “ Warrior! thou bearest a haughty heart,
But I can bend its pride!
In the liour of Victory's tide ?
That I shall make thee mine ;
Where men for fountains pine!
In some strong Paynim hold
Wherewith to tame the bold !"
If this indeed must be !
And I may not shrink for thee!
To the cause of the holy shrine;
O Death! and not to thine!”