RETURN TO MASSACHUSETTS.

THE martin's nest! the simple nest!
I see it swinging high,

Just as it stood in distant years,

Above my gazing eye;

But many a bird has plumed its wing,

And lightly flown away,

Or drooped his little head in death,

Since that my youthful day!

The woodland stream! the pebbly stream!

It gaily flows along,

As once it did when by its side

I

sang my merry song.

But many a wave has roll'd afar,

Beneath the summer cloud, Since by its bank I idly pour'd

My childish song aloud.

The sweet-brier rose! the way-side rose !
Still spreads its fragrant arms,
Where graciously to passing eyes
It gave its simple charms;

But many a perfumed breeze has passed,
And many a blossom fair,

Since with a careless heart I twined
Its green wreaths in my hair.

The barberry bush! the poor man's bush!

Its yellow blossoms hang

As erst, where by the grassy lane

Along I lightly sprang;

But many a flower has come and gone,

And scarlet berry shone,

Since I, a school-girl in its path,

In rustic dance have flown.

WATERTOWN, MASS. 1812.

ANSWER

TO THE CHARGE OF LOVING THE LAND OF MY ADOPTION

MORE THAN THE HOME OF MY BIRTH.

GUILTY, yes, guilty. - Faint on memory's height
Linger the beams to young experience dear,
Fading beneath the glow of tender light

That shines in kindly radiance o'er me here.

I sigh not for New England's orchard store,
Her cultur'd meadows, or her gurgling rills;

I ask no musings by her rocky shore,

Nor summer rambles on her sloping hills.

My heart is here. The lowland scenes to me

Are fraught with all that makes life worth my care;

A thousand clustering joys spring buoyantly

And throw their branches on my being's air.

Home, where young faces glow like living flowers, And time's intruding footsteps half arrest; Protecting arms, that guard my sunny bowers.

With gentle care that blesses to be blest.

Friends- dear as ever were the friends of yore

Spontaneous bursting in unselfish bloom.

I had no sunshine on their lot to pour,

Soft hymns, pure prayers within my chosen fane, While on my household altar safely dwells The incense kindled to his sacred name.

Forgive the wanderer, then, who thus beguil'd,
Turns from her cradle by New-England's side,

And having there paid reverence as a child,
Clings here to Carolina as a bride.

CHARLESTON, S. C.