Malrow, the children of whose love, Each to his grown, in youth have part, And now the mould lees fresh above The dearest and the last Pride, who dost wear the unde's vel Refores the wedding flowers wedding flowers are pale, No billeven greet than He deem the human heart endors deeper billeres Mc Cullen Bryants THE LIVING LOST. Nor to the world's cold pity show Weep, ye who sorrow for the dead: Thus breaking hearts their pain relieve; And honored ye who grieve. But ye, who for the living lost That agony in secret bear, WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. LAMENT OF THE IRISH EMIGRANT. I'm sitting on the stile, Mary, Where we sat side by side, On a bright May morning long ago, The place is little changed, Mary ; And the corn is green again; 'Tis but a step down yonder lane, And the little church stands near, The church where we were wed, Mary: I see the spire from here. But the graveyard lies between, Mary, And my step might break your rest; For I've laid you, darling, down to sleep, With your baby on your breast. LAMENT OF THE IRISH EMIGRANT. I'm very lonely now, Mary, For the poor make no new friends; The few our Father sends ! Yours was the good, brave heart, Mary, When the trust in God had left my soul, And the kind look on your brow; I bless you, Mary, for that same, Though you cannot hear me now. I thank you for the patient smile I'm bidding you a long farewell, In the land I'm going to. A CHRISTMAS HYMN. They say there's bread and work for all, And often in those grand old woods And my heart will travel back again Where we sat side by side, And the springing corn, and the bright May morn, When first you were my bride. MRS. BLACKWOOD, (Lady Dufferin.) A CHRISTMAS HYMN. Ir was the calm and silent night! Seven hundred years and fifty-three Had Rome been growing up to might, And now was queen of land and sea. No sound was heard of clashing wars: Peace brooded o'er the hushed domain; Apollo, Pallas, Jove, and Mars, Held undisturbed their ancient reign, In the solemn midnight, Centuries ago! |