Stranger to fear-whom death alone could tame, Enlist thyself, and emulate his fame. If thou'rt a patriot; if it were thy fate To fall like Cato, with a falling state, Roused by the thought, exert thy firmest power, Britain to save in this her luckless hour. If love alone has taught thy heart to heave, For such a state, what will you not believe? You will conclude her loved, but loved in vain, Forbid alike to hope, and to complain. Whate'er he was, whate'er thou mayest be, Peace to his ashes, peace be unto thee. LINES, By Lady DOUGLAS, as descriptive of herself. When the sun shines out bright, I am merry and light, I laugh and I talk like a fool : Then wise folks think I am mad, And can never be sad, I am wild as a boy broke from school. Next comes a cloudy, chilly, stormy day, And think, at least, they are not made for me. Then rectify, O heaven! my wavering mind, t MADELINE. My child, my child, thou leav'st me!-I shall hear The gentle voice no more that blessed mine ear With its first utterance:-I shall miss the sound Of thy light footstep, 'midst the flowers around, And thy soft-breathing hymn at evening's close, And thy good-night,' at parting for repose. Under the vine-leaves I shall sit alone, And the low breeze will have a mournful tone Among their tendrils, while I think of thee, My child and thou, along the moonlight sea, With a soft sadness haply in thy glance, Shall watch thine own, thy pleasant land of France Fading to air! Yet blessings with thee go- When thou wert pillowed there; and wont to raise That still sought mine. Those moments are gone by--- This was a mother's parting with her childA young, meek bride, on whom fair fortune smiled, And wooed her, with a voice of love, away From childhood's home. Yet there, with fond delay, She lingered on the threshold: heard the note Of her caged bird through trellised rose-trees float; And fell upon her mother's neck, and wept, While old remembrances, that long had slept, Streamed o'er her soul; and many a vanished day, As in one picture traced, before her lay. But the farewell was said; and on the deep,' When its breast heaved in sunset's golden sleep, With a stilled heart, young Madeline, ere long, That voice was on the waters; till at last The sounding ocean-solitudes were passed, And the bright land was reached; the youthful world The map of our own paths, and long ere years By the close veil of misery. Oh! but ill, When with rich hopes o'erfraught, the young high heart Bears its first blow! It knows not yet the part Which life will teach-to suffer and be still! And with submissive love, to count the flowers Which yet are spared; and through the future hours In weariness from life. Then came the unrest, The vague The haunting sounds of voices far away, On her lone couch of sickness-lost in dreams Something that bows not to the day's distress, That knows not change, that fears not weariness: Love, true and perfect love !-Whence came that power, |