Maidens who, like the young Crescent, Bright souls, to dwell with you there? Though War's high-sounding harp may be Most welcome to the hero's ears, Alas, his chords of victory Are bathed, all o'er, with tears. How far more sweet their numbers run, No victor, but the Eternal One, GO FORTH TO THE MOUNT. Go forth to the Mount-bring the olive-branch home,' Bring myrtle and palm-bring the boughs of each tree That is worthy to wave o'er the tents of the Free.4 From that day, when the footsteps of Israel shone, With a light not their own, through the Jordan's deep tide, Whose waters shrunk back as the Ark glided on-5 IS IT NOT SWEET TO THINK, HEREAFTER. Is it not sweet to think, hereafter, To those she long hath mourn'd for here? Eyes, this world can ne'er restore, There, as warm, as bright as ever, Shall meet us and be lost no more. When wearily we wander, asking Of earth and heaven, where are they, Beneath whose smile we once lay baskingBlest, and thinking bliss would stay! HOW LIGHTLY MOUNTS THE MUSE'S WING. Hope still lifts her radiant finger Air-ANONYMOUS. How lightly mounts the Muse's wing, Whose theme is in the skiesLike morning larks, that sweeter sing The nearer heaven they rise! Though Love his wreathed lyre may tune, Round which Devotion ties Sweet flowers that turn to heav'nly fruit, Pointing to the eternal home, Upon whose portal yet they linger, Looking back for us to come. And that they should publish and proclaim in all their C and in Jerusalem, saying, Go forth unto the mount, and fext. ~~ branches, etc. etc.-Neh. vii, 15. 2. For since the days of Joshua the son of Nun, unto that dry, be not the children of Israel done so; and there was very grea. glede w -16. 17. 3 Sun, stand thou still upon Gibeon; and thou, Moon, in the mley of Ajalon.-Jush, s. 12. 4. Fetch olive-branches and pine-branches, and myrtle-bran and palm-branches, and branches of thick trees, to make hp staan, m Neh. vi, 15, 5. And the priests that bare the ark of the covenant of the 1 stood firm on dry ground in the midst of Jordan, and all the is as passed over on dry ground.-Josh in. 17. <<< She is lovely!» Then love her, nor let the bliss fly; DID NOT. 'T WAS a new feeling-something more Than we had dared to own before, Which then we hid not, which then we hid not. We saw it in each other's eye, And wish'd, in every murmur'd sigh, To speak, but did not; to speak, but did not. She felt my lips' impassion'd touch"T was the first time I dared so much, And she chid not, and yet she chid not; yet But whisper'd o'er my burning brow, «Oh! do you doubt I love you now?» Sweet soul! I did not; sweet soul! I did not. Warmly I felt her bosom thrill, Though gently bid not, though gently bid not; FANNY, DEAREST! On! bad I leisure to sigh and mourn, Fanny, dearest! for thee I'd sigh; And every smile on my cheek should turn To tears, when thou art nigh. But, between love, and wine, and sleep, So busy a life I live, That even the time it would take to weep The love, that's order'd to bathe in wine, Reflected bright in this heart of mine, If sunshine cannot dissolve thy snow, FANNY WAS IN THE GROVE. FANNY was in the grove, And Lubin, her boy, was nigh; Her eve was warm with love, And her soul was warm as her eye. Oh! oh! if Lubin now would sue, Oh! oh! what could Fanny do? Fanny was made for bliss, But she was young and shy; And when he had stolen a kiss, She blush'd, and said with a sigh— « Oh! oh! Lubin, ah! tell me true, Gh! oh! what are you going to do?» They wander'd beneath the shade, Her eye was dimm'd with a tear, For ah! the poor little maid Was thrilling with love and fear. Oh! oh! if Lubin would but sue, Oh! oh! what could Fanny do? Sweetly along the grove The birds sang all the while, And Fanny now said to her love, With a frown that was half a smile-«Oh! oh! why did Lubin sue? Oh! oh! why did Lubin sue?» Viver en Cadenas. FROM LIFE WITHOUT FREEDOM. FROM life without freedom, oh! who would not fly? For one day of freedom, oh! who would not die? Hark!—hark! 'tis the trumpet! the call of the brave. The death-song of tyrants and dirge of the slave. Our country lies bleeding-oh! fly to her aid; One arm that defends is worth hosts that invade. From life without freedom, oh! who would not fly! For one day of freedom, oh! who would not die? In death's kindly bosom our last hope remains- HERE'S THE BOWER. HERE'S the bower she loved so much, Where's the hand to wreathe them? Songs around neglected lie, Where's the lip to breathe them? Here's the bower she loved so much, And the tree she planted; Here's the harp she used to touchOh! how that touch enchanted! Spring may bloom, but she we loved Now hath lost its fleetness. 1 I SAW THE MOON RISE CLEAR. I SAW the moon rise clear O'er hills and vales of snow, For well my rein-deer knew The gloom that winter cast JOYS THAT PASS AWAY. Joys that pass away like this, Alas! are purchased dear, If every beam of bliss Is follow'd by a tear. Fare thee well! oh, fare thee well! The girl whose faithless art And with it break my heart. Once, when truth was in those eyes, How beautiful they shone; But now that lustre flies, For truth, alas! is gone. Fare thee well! oh, fare thee well! How I've loved my hate shall tell. Oh! how lorn, how lost would prove Thy wretched victim's fate, If, when deceived in love, He could not fly to hate! LIGHT SOUNDS THE HARP. LIGHT Sounds the harp when the combat is overWhen heroes are resting, and joy is in bloomWhen laurels hang loose from the brow of the lover, And Cupid makes wings of the warrior's plume. But, when the foe returns, Again the hero burns; High flames the sword in his hand once more; Is then the sound that charms, Light went the harp when the War-God, reclining, nest. |