But I seem scathed by inward strife,

And that sweet loving prime

Is sever'd from our wedded life,
As by a Gulf of Time!

The bird that in our shelt'ring tree
Has built his yearly nest,

Lives a self-balanced life, and he

Is beautiful and blest.

But Man makes change within his heart,

A war of Choice we wage;

And thus Youth's golden links we part From our succeeding Age.

E 2

FOREIGN TRAVEL.

"Tis but one single month of short-lived days Since forth I fared from England's fading shore ; And yet how great the change!

The mountain breeze

Has giv'n my cheek a fresh and healthy hue,

My step is strong, and in my heart the pulse
Of life beats high.

And then, mine eye

hath gazed

On solemn scenes of deep sequester'd beauty ;-
The misty crags, and snow-capt pinnacles
Of pathless mountains; dim and airy heights,
Where avalanches cradle; on clear blue lakes
Glassing those icy peaks; on winding streams,
And vales in all their quiet loveliness.—

From all these bright impressions of the eye
The mind still draws its food and daily diet;
Till, like the lizard of a southern world,

It gains a hue from what it feeds upon.—
And such my gain !-To me the forest brook
Has sung its deep-voiced song; the mountain violet,
Her tender tale forth telling at my feet,

Has made me feel how great, how wonderful

The moral Truth of all created things;

Until my heart leaps, like a joyous child,

To bless the God who made it.

Would 'twere so

Unchangingly! but, e'en in this short space,
This single month of sweet and pleasant travel,
There have been other thoughts;-cold, gloomy
thoughts,

Dull mists o' the mind; and, after sunny days,
These oft rise strongest :-Alas! poor changing Man,
We boast our powers; and yet our souls are such

In strength as insect shapes might bear;—their dreams
Like shadows in a glass; the dim reflections,

And shadows of a shade!

But shall I forget

Those rays of brighter hue, which streamed on me
From other minds less clouded than my own ?—
Ye vine-clad hills, and slopes of swelling green,
Ye gods o' the Earth,-gaunt crags and giant peaks,
That circle round your Leman's azure wave,—
Thou deep clear Lake,-oh! how should I forget?
No, never shall my mem'ry let them go-

Words that endeared your waters,-social sympathies,
That lent a charm e'en to your loveliness :-
As the ripe summer fruit seems sweeter still,
When heav'n's own dew is on it.

Bright the sun

Appeared, for hearts beat joyous 'neath his ray;
And soft the moonlight on that lovely lake,
When thought flowed on, congenial to the scene;
Calm, tempered thought—a flood of quiet feeling,
Glad, but not gay-the moonlight of the mind!
In

years to come, my mem'ry shall revert

To Leman's peaceful shore; and, like its wave,
Mirror more worlds than the known common earth

Of daily doing, and of daily suff'rance.

And, in those years, shall not a single name

Of them whose hearts held there a happy converse

Be for a day forgotten. "Tis much to say

That all those hearts shall still remain unchanged,
Save for perfection (like the buds of Spring
Unfolding still); and yet I dare to think it—
Think it I will; the thought is sweet and tranquil :

But oh! e'en while I write, I feel within

That desolate feeling; as if every heart

Had fairer hopes than mine. One cannot live

On pictured thoughts-and I-will dream no more!