To Mrs. ---

I never shall forget thee--'tis a word Thou oft must hear, for surely there be none On whom thy wond'rous eyes have ever shone But for a moment, or who e'er have heard Thy voice's deep impassioned melody, Can lose the memory of that look or tone. But, not as these, do I say unto thee, I never shall forget thee:--in thine eyes, Whose light, like sunshine, makes the world rejoice, A stream of sad and solemn splendour lies; And there is sorrow in thy gentle voice. Thou art not like the scenes in which I found thee, Thou art not like the beings that surround thee; To me, thou art a dream of hope and fear; Yet why of fear?--oh sure! the Power that lent Such gifts, to make thee fair, and excellent; Still watches one whom it has deigned to bless With such a dower of grace and loveliness; Over the dangerous waves 'twill surely steer The richly freighted bark, through storm and blast, And guide it safely to the port at last. Such is my prayer; 'tis warm as ever fell From off my lips: accept it, and farewell! And though in this strange world where first I met thee; We meet no more--I never shall forget thee.

AN ENTREATY.

Once more, once more into the sunny fields Oh, let me stray! And drink the joy that young existence yields In a bright, cloudless day.

Once more let me behold the summer sky, With its blue eyes, And join the wild wind's voice of melody, As far and free it flies.

Once more, once more, oh let me stand and hear The gushing spring, As its bright drops fall starlike, fast and clear, And in the sunshine sing.

Once more, oh let me list the soft sweet breeze At evening mourn: Let me, oh let me say farewell to these, And to my task I gaily will return.

Oh, lovely earth! oh, blessed smiling sky! Oh, music of the wood, the wave, the wind! I do but linger till my ear and eye Have traced ye on the tablets of my mind--

And then, fare ye well! Bright hill and bosky dell, Clear spring and haunted well, Night-blowing flowers pale, Smooth lawn and lonely vale, Sleeping lakes and sparkling fountains, Shadowy woods and sheltering mountains, Flowery land and sunny sky, And echo sweet, my playmate shy; Fare ye well!--fare ye well!

LINES FOR MUSIC.

Loud wind, strong wind, where art thou blowing? Into the air, the viewless air, To be lost there: There am I blowing.

Clear wave, swift wave, where art thou flowing? Unto the sea, the boundless sea, To be whelm'd there: There am I flowing.

Young life, swift life, where art thou going? Down to the grave, the loathsome grave, To moulder there: There am I going.