IV.

After the dark, the dawning,-
After the cool, the heat,-

After the rain, the buds of spring,—
After the sour, the sweet,-
And after all thy chiding,

Behold me at thy feet!

OH, THE HAPPY TIME DEPARTED!

[Air by SIR H. R. BISHOP.]

I.

Он, the happy time departed!
In its smile the world was fair,
We believed in all men's goodness;
Joy and hope were gems to wear—
Angel visitants were with us,

There was music in the air.

II.

Oh, the happy time departed!
Change came o'er it all too soon;
In a cold and drear December
Died the leafy wealth of June;
Winter killed our summer roses-
Discord marred a heavenly tune.

III.

Let them pass-the days departed ;--
What befell may ne'er befall!

BY THE LONE SEA-SHORE.

Why should we with vain lamenting
Seek a shadow to recall ?

Great the sorrows we have suffered-
Hope is greater than them all.

BY THE LONE SEA-SHORE.

[Glee by SIR H. R. BISHOP.]

By the lone sea-shore

I.

Mournfully beat the waves,

Mournfully evermore

The wild wind sobs and raves.

A sadness and a sense of deep unrest

Brood on the clouds and on the water's breast.
But lo! the white sea-mew careering,

Floats indolently by,

And lo! a snowy sail appearing
Gleams fair against the sky;

The sadness and the loneliness depart―
And Nature smiles with sympathy of heart.

II.

From snowy mountain-peak

How sadly we look down

On purple moorland bleak

Ungladdened by a town:

The solemn grandeur is akin to pain;
We look for sympathy-and sigh in vain.
But if we hear the kine deep-lowing,
Or voice of chanticleer,

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Or watch the azure smoke upflowing
From cottage homesteads near,

The lonely landscape glitters in the sight
And human gladness robes it with delight.

'TIS MERRY IN THE MEAD.

I.

'Tis merry in the mead,

When tree, and flower, and weed

Unfold their tender leaflets to wanton in the spring;

When the linnet in the croft,

And the lark a mile aloft,

And the blackbird in the thicket, attune their throats to sing.

Oh! 'tis merry out of doors,

On the daisy-spangled floors

Of the balmy fields and pastures in the sweet, sweet month of May :

When the heart of youth is light,

And the face of care grows bright,

And the children leap for gladness in the morning of the day.

Oh! 'tis beautiful to see

How the blushing apple-tree,

And the odour-laden hawthorn, and the cherry and the sloe,

Have put on their bridal gear,

For the nuptials of the year

The bridesmaids of the Earth, with their garments white

as snow.

THE CONSOLER.

And how the happy Earth,

Growing young again in mirth,

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Has prank'd herself in jewels to do honour to the day— Of gold and purple bright,

Of azure and of white;

Her diadem and bracelets, the meadow-flowers of May.

III.

Come forth, come forth, ye sad!

Look at nature, and be glad.

Come forth, ye toiling millions, the universe is fair,— Come forth from crowded street,

And cool your feverish feet

With a trample on the turf in the pleasant open air!
The children in the meads

String the buttercups like beads;

Be not too wise to join them, but sport as well as they ; Come and hear the cuckoo sing,

Come and breathe the breath of spring,

And gild your life's October with the memories of May.

THE CONSOLER.

1.

In winter, when the trees are bare,

And nights are moonless;

When in the damp and chilling air

The birds are tuneless;

When keen winds rattle on the road

And nip our fingers,

There is a comforter abroad

Who never lingers :

Ever he sings in silent ways-
"The winter closes:

'Tis I restore the summer days;—

Time brings the roses.'

II.

When summer heats our veins oppress,
And the woods swelter;

When, faint with noontide sultriness,
We pine for shelter;

When weary of the daily walk

O'er moor and meadow,

We long for change, for fireside talk,

And the lamp's shadow,—

Still sings the soother of our woes—

"To sigh is folly;

The same kind hand that brought the rose,

Shall bring the holly."

III.

True friend!-too often called a foe

He prompts all gladness ;

He whispers warmth when cold winds blow,

And joy in sadness;

He lights the darkness of today

With promised morrows,

And has some kindly word to say

In all our sorrows.

For every grief he bears a spell—

Care's best controller;

And loves all those who use him well

TIME, the Consoler!