Cold seem'd the marble of her snowy brow,
Serene and still, but lightnings flash'd below;
And strangers scarce had noted that her eye,
Bright as the sun and azure as the sky,
Was shaded by the pressure of a grief
That own'd no hope and sought for no relief:
So gentle was her mien, the breath of spring
Was not more gentle with its zephyr wing;
So cheerful was her voice, so bland her words,
Summer with all its choir of early birds
Was not more glad, more pregnant with delight,
Sweet to the ear, or joyous to the sight;
She would not mar one hour of mirth, nor break
On Pleasure's light smile for her sorrow's sake:
She cheer'd the mourner's anguish, and alone
Heard many a sore complaint, yet utter'd none-
To lighter woes did solace soft impart,
Yet kept her own, the weightier, on her heart!

Nature must have her course: we solace find
In things congenial to our tone of mind;
The light heart pants for joy, but sights forlorn
Are sought by him who pines, by those that mourn.
No more did Alice take delight to rove

By summer's waveless lake or branching grove ;
The birds no more were musical; the trees
Were best beloved when bending in the breeze-
For every leaf in tint, and flower in blow,
Seem'd far too bright, contrasted with her woe!
Sought she her task?-ah! where was he who oft
Sat by her side with accents warm and soft?
She gazed around the walls-his picture there
Smiled on her still; beneath, the empty chair
Stood, and his books-'twas more than she could bear!
Sought she the garden?-to the bower she came,
Where in love's idlesse he had carved her name;
And every tree, and shrub, and floweret brought
Things that had been like lightning to her thought.
Sought she the mead?-above the pale-blue wood,
Remote, her Albert's home conspicuous stood;
And where was he, its dear-loved tenant-where?—
She turn'd in all the frenzy of despair,
And felt that darkness shadow'd o'er her lot-
That she was 'twas enough-earth held him not!

And mournful was the time at Primrose Hall, His father's home; sorrow o'ermantled all! Words cannot paint a parent's grief, nor tell How deep their loss in one beloved so wellTheir only son, in whom were treasured up All their fond hopes: it was a bitter cup Set for their quaffing: many a vision bright, And pleasing dream, with him had set in night; And life that comfort lost which could assuage The frowns of fortune or the cares of age. His sister lull'd her music; for no more Could her mind rest-she cared but to deplore: Was he then gone-snatch'd from her-rapt from earth? Methought e'en yet she heard his tones of mirth,

His light laugh-saw him still before her stand,
And felt the cordial pressure of his hand!
Was he then gone?-was she then brotherless?
Deeper than tears was Caroline's distress.

The gardener, in the family trust grown grey,
Threw down his spade, and sadly stole away,
Leaving his work half-done, and passing by
That day his flower-beds with averted eye.
The lingering groom, patting a courser's brow,
Murmur'd aloud-" Thou hast no master now!"

Oft when came forth the star of twilight's sky, And evening lost its soft vermilion dye, To the lone churchyard, sorrowful and slow, What time the world is hush'd, would Alice go; There resting on a tombstone, in the shade Of cypress boughs, she pensively survey'd The melancholy scene-the silent page Which spoke, how sadly, of the vanish'd age. "Calm is the grave," she thought," and calmly lie Its tenants-wherefore do we fear to die? The virtuous need not fear; the child of grief Lays down all sorrow here, and finds relief. Soon shall this goal be won, and slumber close The eyelids softly to their last repose; But, Albert, to thy grave I cannot come, Earth holds thee not-deep ocean is thy tomb: I cannot throw me on thy senseless clay, To pour my plaint and weep my griefs away; "Twere a relief to think, of one so dear,

Though life were not, that even the dust were near !— That I could come at eventide-could leave

The busy world behind, and fondly grieve

Grieve as I know thou wouldst have done, if mine
Had been the hapless fate which hath been thine!

"Earth cannot part us long; the boughs that wave Above my head, shall soon o'erhang my grave: This throbbing heart must soon subside to peace, This tumult silence, and these sorrows cease; Then shall thy spirit, leaning from the skies, Sue pardon for me, and bid mine arise To realms, where heavenly mercies shall impart Bliss to the eyes, and rapture to the heart!”

Then stray'd she home, and, turning, eyed afar In the blue South the glorious Evening StarA talisman that conjured to her sight Their raptured twilight walks, the parting night! 'Twas more than she could bear; she had not need Of memory's aid to make her bosom bleed,To tell of hopes that once illumed her fate, Sank to dark night, and left her desolate!

'Tis sweet to mark the opening of the year, With every sight to charm, and sound to cheer; Life bursts majestic from her wintry tomb, And skies their blue, and woods their green assume,

While flowers begin to sprout, and birds to sing,
With choral throats, an anthem to the spring:
Nor beauteous less to mark the youthful form
Rise on the world, 'mid life's diurnal storm,
Unfolding silently affections kind,

The hopes, the joys, the blossoms of the mind;
The promise of a harvest richly given
To bless mankind, and ripen into heaven.
Why marvel, then, that mournful we survey
The blight of flowers expanding into day;
The wreck of all that promised long to ride,
'Neath halcyon skies, the favourable tide;
The fall of stars, that, in the noon of night,
Rose o'er the mountain tops in cloudless light?

One evening, in an arbour Alice sate, Mid cluster'd flowers, hard by the garden gate; The sun had sunk, and all the western sky With gold was streaked; the drowsy beetle-fly Wheel'd humming past, and bats their devious flight Urged dimly on, amid the failing light;

The blackbird's pipe was hush'd, and the wild breeze
Fitfully blew, disturbing the dark trees,

And wafting from the blooms that odour sweet,
So richly poured, when day and evening meet;
Heard was the lulling lapse of streams afar;
And, in the calm west, gleam'd the Evening Star!
Alone-her feelings and the scene combined,
With a sad harmony to fill her mind;

All was so still, so peaceful, earth did seem
Not Nature's handiwork, but Fancy's dream;
Yet was it earth-" Could Grief inhabit there?
Could Guilt, could Misery haunt a scene so fair?"
Pausing, she thought.-She gazed the landscape o'er,
Then sighing, said-" I ne'er shall see it more!"

It was in vain to strive, and came at length,
Paleness, and pining, and decay of strength;
Without a murmur, voiceless in her woe,
Unheard she sigh'd, unseen her tears did flow;
Calm as a vernal cloud, that passeth through
In purest whiteness, morn's refulgent blue,
And melts away to nothingness—a thing
Of elements for ever on the wing-
So did she pass-so waned she on the sight-
As silent-as composed-as lovely quite :
Day follow'd day-no more could Alice brook
Morn's laughing eye, or Evening's garish look ;
The fields were far too green, the azure sky
Too bright and too oppressive for her eye:
She left no more the couch, but, all resign'd,
Grieved only for the friends she left behind-
Grieved for her mother, that the cares of age
No friend should find it pleasure to assuage,
Smooth for her head the pillow of distress,
And think it were a crime to love her less!

And such a mother!-wakeful, day and night, She watch'd the couch with sad, but fond, delight,

Where she, her lovely daughter, pined away
Without a sigh, but with a sure decay:
Her voice grew tremulous-upon her cheek
Flutter'd with feverish glow the hectic streak,
Bright forerunner of fate and coming gloom,
That rose that blossoms only o'er the tomb.
And oft the summon'd servant paused to ask,
To hope that she was better! Mournful task
To answer "Yes" for Alice-yet to bear
The heart which felt no betterness was there!
Few friends she saw-the few whose earlier years
Commingled mutual joys and mutual tears-
Playmates of seasons past; and scarce she stood
Yet on the verge of earliest womanhood:

Then would she clear her brow, and call to mind
The happy, happy days far left behind,
Far mid the vista of departed years,

Unmark'd by sorrow and unstain'd with tears.
"Why do ye weep?" she said," weep not for me,
That soon from earthly cares I shall be free!
I feel no pain-then wherefore do ye weep?
The moonlight calm that slumbers on the deep,
Departeth not more tranquilly away,

When snowy clouds float o'er its placid ray,
Than I from you, my sisters—from the earth,
That long will smile for you in summer mirth!"

As fade the flowers when frowning Winter shrouds The earth with tempests and the sky with cloudsAs melt away the snows when Spring comes forth, And leaves to frost no empire save the NorthSo waned she on the sight, and day by day, Like evening sunlight, stole from us away; The shade of what she was, when through the grove And by the lake she took delight to rove, A child of Nature, beautiful yet meek, Heaven in her eye and roses on her cheek.

'Twas evening; scarcely on that lovely face
The silent watcher could sensation trace,
So calm she lay, so statue-like serene,
The slight heave of her breast alone was seen :
Closed were her eyelids, pallid as the snow
Ere daybreak purples o'er the mountain's brow,
And through the long dark lashes, sweetly mild,
She smiled in dreams, or seemingly she smiled—
As if, in blest repose, to her were given
The calm of pardon'd souls and views of Heaven.
Bright o'er her brow the auburn tresses hung,
And loosely by her side one arm was flung,
The fingers held-what?-but the shade of him
Whose melancholy fate had made hers dim-
And in her grasp, with youthful aspect mild,
The pictured lines of her dead lover smiled-
Smiled as he wont of yore.

Her opening eyes
Gazed blandly round her with a brief surprise,
As if aroused from thought; and then she said—
"Dear mother, seat thee near me by my bed,

And let the curtain-folds be raised, that I
Once more may look on the grand evening sky,
And o'er yon forests, where, on eves like this,
To roam and list the birds was more than bliss."

A momentary brightness o'er her face
Fill'd, as with light, the melancholy place,
As forth she gazed. The mighty sun had set
Beyond the hills, whose peaks were glowing yet;
Blue gleam'd the lake, and with an emerald pride
Were seen the forests old outstretching wide;
And on an elm hard by, a blackbird pour'd
His dirge, that rising, falling, still deplored:
Far from the mead the cattle's low was heard,
And on the window-sill a lovely bird,

The redbreast, lighted, trilling from his throat
A loud, clear, simple, momentary note,

And sudden disappear'd :—then trembling rush'd
A light wind o'er the leaves, just heard and hush'd,
As Twilight stole with silent step serene,
And in her azure mantle wrapt the scene.

"It is the last time that my eyes shall see
Clouds on the sky, or leaves upon the tree!"
Exclaim'd the dying girl-" and comes a night
That never shall for me disperse in light:
From scenes like these in youth to be debarr'd,
To happier hearts may seem to savour hard;
Not so to mine: life's passage may be brief,
And, young in years, the bosom old in grief,
The springs of memory poison'd, and the breast
Estranged to peace, the dwelling of unrest.
This little picture-never let us part,
But place it in my grave-clothes o'er my heart.
Grieve not for me-the unrippled summer sea
Ebbs not more tranquilly ;-grieve not for me!
Resign'd I die, and trust to be forgiven

Through Him who bled that man might merit Heaven!"

'Twas past-the strife was over-like a wave
That, melting on the shore it meant to lave,
Dissolves away;-like Music's sound
Mid cloistral roofs reverberating round,
Fainter and fainter;-like the latest ray
Caught by the hill-top from expiring day,
So fair, so faint she waned; without a sigh,
Like dew sipp'd by the sun, 'twas hers to die;
And, borne on viewless plumes, to nature's Lord
From sorrow and from sin her spirit soar'd.

In tears around her virgin couch they stand,
Kiss the pale brow, and press the chilly hand;
They paused-methought she gently breathed again!-
They paused-hung-gazed-and listen'd-but in vain :
Then found no dimness on the mirror brought
A trace of respiration-SHE WAS NOT!