Bounding on, with sunny lands before him, All the wealth of glowing life outspread, Ere the shadow of a cloud comes o'er him, By that strain the youth in joy is led: Come away!

Slowly, sadly, heavy change is falling
O'er the sweetness of the voice within;
Yet its tones, on restless manhood calling,
Urge the hunter still to chase, to win:
Come away!

Come away!-the heart at last forsaken,
Smile by smile, hath proved each hope untrue;
Yet a breath can still those words awaken,
Though to other shores far hence they woo:
Come away!

In the light leaves, in the reed's faint sighing, In the low, sweet sounds of early spring, Still their music wanders-till the dying Hears them pass, as on a spirit's wing: Come away!

FAIR HELEN OF KIRKCONNEL.

["Fair Helen of Kirkconnel," as she is called in the Scottish Minstrelsy, throwing herself between her betrothed lover and a rival by whom his life was assailed, received a mortal wound, and died in the arms of the former.]

HOLD me upon thy faithful heart, Keep back my flitting breath; "Tis early, early to depart,

Beloved!-yet this is death!

Look on me still-let that kind eye
Be the last light I see!

Oh! sad it is in spring to die,
But yet I die for thee!

For thee, my own!-thy stately head
Was never thus to bow:

Give tears when with me love hath fled,.
True love, thou know'st it now!

Oh, the free streams look'd bright, where'er
We in our gladness roved;
And the blue skies were very fair,
O friend! because we loved.

Farewell!-I bless thee-live thou on

When this young heart is low!

Surely my blood thy life hath won-
Clasp me once more-
-I go!

MUSIC FROM SHORE.

A SOUND comes on the rising breeze,
A sweet and lovely sound!
Piercing the tumult of the seas
That wildly dash around.

From land, from sunny land it comes, From hills with murmuring trees, From paths by still and happy homes-That sweet sound on the breeze.

Why should its faint and passing sigh
Thus bid my quick pulse leap?
No part in earth's glad melody
Is mine upon the deep.

Yet blessing, blessing on the spot

Whence those rich breathings flow! Kind hearts, although they know me not, Like mine there beat and glow.

And blessing, from the bark that roams
O'er solitary seas,

To those that far in happy homes
Give sweet sounds to the breeze!

LOOK ON ME WITH THY CLOUDLESS
EYES.

Look on me with thy cloudless eyes,
Truth in their dark transparence lies;
Their sweetness gives me back the tears
And the free trust of early years,
My gentle child!

The spirit of my infant prayer
Shines in the depths of quiet there;
And home and love once more are mine.
Found in that dewy calm divine,

My gentle child!

Oh! heaven is with thee in thy dreams, Its light by day around thee gleamsThy smile hath gifts from vernal skies: Look on me with thy cloudless eyes, My gentle child!

COME away, elves !-while the dew is sweet,
Come to the dingles where fairies meet!
Know that the lilies have spread their bells
O'er all the pools in our forest dells;
Stilly and lightly their vases rest
On the quivering sleep of the water's breast,
Catching the sunshine through leaves that throw
To their scented bosoms an emerald glow;
And a star from the depth of each pearly cup,
A golden star unto heaven looks up,
As if seeking its kindred where bright they lie,
Set in the blue of the summer sky.
Come away! Under arching boughs we'll float,
Making those urns each a fairy boat;

We'll row them with reeds o'er the fountains free,
And a tall flag-leaf shall our streamer be;

And we'll send out wild music so sweet and low,
It shall seem from the bright flower's heart to flow,
As if 'twere a breeze with a flute's low sigh,
Or water-drops train'd into melody.
Come away! for the midsummer sun grows strong,
And the life of the lily may not be long.

THE BROKEN FLOWER.

OH! wear it on thy heart, my love! Still, still a little while!

I WOULD WE HAD NOT MET AGAIN.

I WOULD we had not met again !
I had a dream of thee,
Lovely, though sad, on desert-plain-
Mournful on midnight sea.

What though it haunted me by night,
And troubled through the day?
It touch'd all earth with spirit-light,
It glorified my way!

Oh! what shall now my faith restore In holy things and fair?

We met-I saw thy soul once more

The world's breath had been there!

Yes! it was sad on desert-plain,

Mournful on midnight sea; Yet would I buy with life again That one deep dream of thee!

FAIRIES' RECALL.

WHILE the blue is richest

In the starry sky.
While the softest shadows

On the greensward lie, While the moonlight slumbers In the lily's urn,