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For the same sound is in my ears
Thus fares it still in our decay;
And yet the wiser mind
Than what it leaves behind.
The blackbird amid leafy trees,
The lark above the hill,
Are quiet when they will.
With Nature never do they wage
A foolish strife: they see
Is beautiful and free.
But we are pressed by heavy laws;
And often, glad no more,
We have been glad of yore.
If there be one who need bemoan
The household hearts that were his own-
My days, my friend, are almost gone,
My life has been approved, And many love me; but by none
Am I enough beloved."—
"Now both himself and me he wrongs,
The man who thus complains! I live and sing my idle songs
Upon these happy plains.
And, Matthew, for thy children dead
I'll be a son to thee !"—
"Alas! that cannot be." —
We rose up from the fountain-side,
Of the green sheep-track did we glide,
And ere we came to Leonard's Rock,
He sang those witty rhymes
And the bewildered chimes.
"Oh, come you from the Indies, and, soldier, can you tell Aught of the gallant 90th, and who are safe and well? O soldier, say my son is safe, (for nothing else I care,) And you shall have a mother's thanks—shall have a widow's prayer!"
"Oh, I've come from the Indies, I've just come from the
war, And well I know the 90th, and gallant lads they are: From colonel down to rank and file, I know my comrades
well, And news I've brought for you, mother, your Robert bade
"And do you know my Robert now! oh, tell me, tell me
true— O soldier, tell me word for word all that he said to you! His very words—my own boy's words—O tell me every
one! You little know how dear to his old mother is my son!"
"Through Havelock's fights and marches the 90th were
there; In all the gallant 90th did, your Robert did his share: Twice he went into Lucknow, untouched by steel or ball; And you may bless your God, old dame, that brought him
safe through all."
"Oh, thanks unto the living God, that heard his mother's
prayer, The widow's cry that rose on high her only son to spare! O bless'd be God, that turned from him the sword and shot
away!— And what to his old mother did my darling bid you say V
"Mother, he saved his colonel's life, and bravely it was
done; In the despatch they told it all, and named and praised your
son: A medal and a pension's his; good luck to him, I say; And he has not a comrade but will wish him well to-day."
"Now, soldier, blessings on your tongue!—O husband, that
you knew How well our boy pays me this day for all that I've gone
through; All I have done and borne for him the long years since
you're dead! But, soldier, tell me how he looked, and all my Robert
"He's bronzed, and tanned, and bearded, and you'd hardly
know him, dame: We've made your boy into a man, but still his heart's the
same; For often, dame, his talk's of you, and always to one tune ;— But there, his ship is nearly home, and he'll be with you
"Oh! is he really coming home, and shall I really see
My boy again, my own boy, home? and when, when will it
be? Did you say soon?"—"Well, he is home; keep cool, old
dame; he's here."— "O Robert! my own blessed boy!"—" 0 mother!—mother
EVENING PRAYER AT A GIRLS' SCHOOL.
Hush! 'tis a holy hour !—the quiet room
A faint and starry radiance, through the gloom
With all their clustering locks untouched by care,
And bowed—as flowers are bowed with night—in prayer.
Gaze on!—'tis lovely !—childhood's lip and cheek
Gaze! yet what seest thou in those fair and meek
Thou seest what grief must nurture for the sky,—
What death must fashion for eternity!
0 joyous creatures! that will sink to rest
As birds with slumber's honey-dew oppressed,
Lift up your hearts! though yet no sorrow lies
Dark in the summer-heaven of those clear eyes.
Though fresh within your breasts the untroubled springs
Of hope make melody where'er ye tread,
Of spirits visiting but youth be spread,
Her lot is on you !—silent tears to weep;
A patient smile to wear through suffering's hour; And sumless riches, from affection's deep,
To pour on broken reedj a wasted shower;
Her lot is on you!—to be found untired,
With a pale cheek, and yet a brow inspired,
And a true heart of hope, though hope be vain; Meekly to bear with wrong, to cheer decay, And, oh! to love through all things !—therefore pray!
And take the thought of this calm vesper-time, With its low murmuring sounds and silvery light,
On through the dark days fading from their prime, As a sweet dew to keep your souls from blight!
Earth will forsake—oh! happy to have given
The unbroken heart's first fragrance unto Heaven!
WE'LL BIDE TOGETHER.
Great tears rolled down his rugged cheek,
Who ne'er for years had wept,
The little outcast slept;
Of sorrow and neglect,
That orphan child protect.
"Poor bird, the bitter weather, Alone in this bleak world—ah, no!
Please God, we'll bide together."
A smile was on the old man's face,
He wore a look of pride,
Came tripping by his side.
"Ah! Heaven was kind to me,"
My joy in age to be.
And feel this balmy weather,
Thank Heaven! we bide together."