[Yet, though thou fade,

From thy dead leaves let fragrance rise;
And teach the Maid

That Goodness Time's rude hand defies;
That Virtue lives when Beauty dies.]

H. K. WHITE.

"I AM PLEAS'D, AND YET I'M SAD."

I.

WHEN twilight steals along the ground,
And all the bells are ringing round,

One, two, three, four, and five,

I at my study-window sit,

And, wrapt in many a musing fit,

To bliss am all alive.

II.

But though impressions calm and sweet
Thrill round my heart a holy heat
And I am inly glad,

The tear-drop stands in either eye,
And yet I cannot tell thee why,

I am pleas'd, and yet I'm sad.

III.

The silvery rack that flies away
Like mortal life or pleasure's ray,

Does that disturb my breast?
Nay what have I, a studious man,
To do with life's unstable plan,

Or pleasure's fading vest?

IV.

Is it that here I must not stop,
But o'er yon blue hill's woody top
Must bend my lonely way?
No, surely no! for give but me
My own fire-side, and I shall be
At home where'er I stray.

V.

Then is it that yon steeple there,
With music sweet shall fill the air,

When thou no more canst hear?
Oh no! oh no! for then forgiven
I shall be with my God in Heaven,
Releas'd from every fear.

VI.

Then whence it is I cannot tell,
But there is some mysterious spell

That holds me when I'm glad;
And so the tear-drop fills my eye,
When yet in truth I know not why,

Or wherefore I am sad.

SOLITUDE.

It is not that my lot is low,
That bids this silent tear to flow;

It is not grief that bids me moan,
It is that I am all alone.

In woods and glens I love to roam, When the tir'd hedger hies him home; Or by the woodland pool to rest, When pale the star looks on its breast.

Yet when the silent evening sighs,
With hallow'd airs and symphonies,
My spirit takes another tone,
And sighs that it is all alone.

The autumn leaf is sear and dead,
It floats upon the water's bed;

I would not be a leaf, to die
Without recording sorrow's sigh!

The woods and winds, with sudden wail,

Tell all the same unvaried tale;

I've none to smile when I am free,
And when I sigh, to sigh with me.

Yet in my dreams a form I view,
That thinks on me, and loves me too;
I start, and when the vision's flown,

IF far from me the Fates remove

Domestic

peace, connubial love,

The prattling ring, the social cheer,
Affection's voice, affection's tear,

Ye sterner powers, that bind the heart,
To me your iron aid impart !

O teach me, when the nights are chill,
And my fire-side is lone and still;
When to the blaze that crackles near,
I turn a tir'd and pensive ear,
And Nature conquering bids me sigh,
For love's soft accents whispering nigh:
O teach me, on that heavenly road,
That leads to Truth's occult abode,
To wrap my soul in dreams sublime,
Till earth and care no more be mine.
Let blest Philosophy impart
Her soothing measures to my heart;
And while with Plato's ravish'd ears
I list the music of the spheres,
Or on the mystic symbols pore,
That hide the Chald's sublimer lore,
I shall not brood on summers gone,
Nor think that I am all alone.

FANNY! upon thy breast I may not lie!

Fanny! thou dost not hear me when I speak!

Where art thou, love?

Around I turn my eye,

cheek.

And as I turn, the tear is on my

Was it a dream? or did my love behold

Indeed my lonely couch? - Methought the breath Fanned not her bloodless lip; her eye was cold

And hollow, and the livery of death Invested her pale forehead.-Sainted maid!

My thoughts oft rest with thee in thy cold grave, Through the long wintry night, when wind and wave Rock the dark house where thy poor head is laid. Yet hush! my fond heart, hush! there is a shore Of better promise; and I know at last,

When the long sabbath of the tomb is past, We two shall meet in Christ to part no more!