2.

3.

"And she forgot the stars, the moon, and

sun;

And she forgot the blue above the

trees;

And she forgot the dells where waters

run;

And she forgot the chilly autumn

breeze :

She had no knowledge when the day was

done,

And the new morn she saw not;-but in

peace

Hung over her sweet Basil evermore,
And moistened it with tears unto the
core."

"She seemed a part of joyous spring:
A gown of grass-green silk she wore,
Buckled with golden clasps before;
A light-green tuft of plumes she bore,
Closed in a ring."

4.

5.

"Let me thy sweetest comfort borrow, Thy heaven-born radiance round me

shed,

And wave thy silver pinions o'er my
head."

"With such a horrid clang
As on Mount Sinai rang,

While the red fire and smouldering clouds

outbrake;

The aged earth aghast,

With terror of that blast,

Shall from the surface to the centre shake;
When at the world's last session,
The dreadful Judge in middle air shall

spread His throne !”

C. C.

113.

"Aloud the driving tempest roars; Congeal'd, impetuous showers descend; Haste, close the windows, bar the doors!

*

In nature's aid let art supply

With light and heat my little sphere.

Rouse, rouse the logs, and pile them high!
Light up a constellation here."

I.

"He is a

of high degree,

And I, a poor recluse."

2. "And oft, in youthful reverie,

She dreamed what Paradise might be,
Where woman's parted soul shall go."

3. "And now, with shouts and clapping, And noise of weeping loud,

He enters through the

gate,

Borne by the joyous crowd."

4. "Half-pleas'd, contented will I be, Content but half to please."

5.

6.

"I'll conceal

My thoughts in passion ('tis the surest

way);

I'll bellow out for Rome, and for my

country,

And mouth at Cæsar, till I shake the
senate."

"But the sound she heard not,

Nor the sunshine heeded,

For the thoughts of

Were not of love."

7. "And she forgot her briar-torn gown,
And her graceful ankles bare and brown;
And listened, while a pleased surprise
Looked from her long-lashed hazel eyes."

8. "Arouse thee from thy moody dream! I'll give thine harp heroic theme."

9. "Our well-sung woes will soothe the pensive ghost;

He best can paint them, who shall feel them most."

FINIS.