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By them, that fear is never felt

Which weakly clings to life,
If shrines, by which their Fathers knelt,

Be perilled in the strife :
Not theirs the heart, that spiritless

From threatened wrong withdraws ;
Not theirs the vaunted holiness

That veils an earthly cause.




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The parted year! the parted year!

How many joys are fled and gone, How many feelings disappear

Like shadows o'er a summer's sun! The parted year !-and is there none

To mourn o'er thine expiring form? Yes! there's a heart-a faithful one, Will

pour the death-dirge true and warm.

Come, recollections of the Past,

Come, like mild perfumes from the shore The happy vessel nears at last,

When storms and perils all are o'er! Are all your cherished hours no more,

Mere creatures of deluding dreams? Visions of bliss ! again restore

The beauty of your morning beams.


It cannot be ;-ye ’re perished all,

Save in pale Memory's silent bower; And I may now alone recal

The presence of your parting hour. Come, beautiful and lost! thy power,

Like music down a lonely river, Clings to the soul as bee to flower;

Oh! it will linger there for ever!


Friends have I had -- the year flew by ;

How many hath it borne away? Man, like the hours, is born to die ;

The last year's hours! 0, where are they? The world's pulse doth the world obey,

Heaving like ocean's turbid wave; But ah! it beats but to convey

Creation nearer to its grave!

V. Last summer, how the flowers all bloomed,

Fresh as the dreams of young desire ;Now those sweet flowers are all entombed,

And but their memory lives entire ! Man's thoughts in summer soar the higher,

More ardent than the burning hours; Alas! do chainless thoughts expire,

Transient as ye, last summer flowers?

I look upon the midnight dome,

And the same blessed lights are there ; Bright clustering stars are all at home,

Smiling like Love on lady fair:Ye glorious creatures! thus ye were

Showering pale splendour upon earth ,But ah! no more the perished year

Will hail with joy your welcome birth.


I gaze upon the gliding stream,

Its diamond waters onward flow, And over it the morning beam

Shines as it did a year ago:“Out upon Time's” destructive blow!

Do the same murmuring waters wave? Alas! sad Memory answers, “No:"

They ’re buried in their ocean grave!


The plains are clad with verdure new,

And the green leaf is on the tree; The mountains bold burst on my view,

But they are not the same to me;Old friends with faces new ye be,

But not with lovelier looks appear; Leafless and naked all were ye,

Ere fled the last departed year!

The blithe bird now is on the wing,

Floating on seas of airy bliss;
I own it is a sunny spring,

But last spring was as bright as this ! What birds and flowers do I not miss

What hues of beauty, sounds of love ; Though other flowers the streamlet kiss,

And other warblers haunt the grove ?

Last year! last year! O startling words,

Solemn as deep sea-sounds ye come,
Sadly ye sweep the bosom's chords

The beautiful are in the tomb! O Mary! where is all thy bloom,

Thy brow, so bright-thine eye, so clear? Where are they? Ask the fatal doom,

That shrouded the departed year!

I see

O thou art gone! and yet

Thee still in every orb of night;
They look so calmly down on me,

I think it is thine own love-light. And ah! there is no zephyr's flight

But what 't is Mary's voice I deem ; Away! ye visions of delight,

Ye are but Passion's faithless dream!

No more! no more,-- I cannot sing

With words so sad upon my tongue;
Memory! thou frail, dejected thing,

Why promptest thou my mournful song? Down to the dust ye feelings strong,

Dust as ye are, despite of tears ;For lo! pale shadows sweep along,

Shades of the sad departed years!

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