ODE TO DISAPPOINTMENT.

Come, Disappointment, come!

Though from Hope's summit hurl'd;
Still, rigid nurse, thou art forgiven,
For thou severe wert sent from heaven,
To turn mine eye

From vanity,

And point to scenes of bliss

That never, never die.

What is this passing scene?
A peevish April day—

A little sun, a little rain,

And then night sweeps along the plain,

And all things fade away,

Man (soon discussed)

Yields up his trust,

And all his hopes and fears

Lie with him in the dust.

O, what is beauty's power?
It flourishes and dies:

Will the cold earth its silence break,

To tell how soft, how smooth a cheek

Beneath its surface lies?

Mute, mute is all

O'er beauty's fall;

Her praise resounds no more,

When mantled in her pall,

71

72

ODE TO DISAPPOINTMENT.

The most beloved on earth

Not long survives to-day:

So music past is obsolete,

And yet 'twas sweet, 'twas passing sweet,
But now 'tis gone away,

Thus does the shade

In memory fade,

When in forsaken tomb

The form beloved is laid.

Then since this world is vain,

And volatile and fleet,

Why should I lay up earthly joys,
Where rust corrupts and moth destroys?
Why fly from ill,

With anxious skill,

When soon this hand will freeze,

This throbbing heart be still?

Come, Disappointment, come!

Thou art not stern to me :
Sad monitress, I own thy sway,
A votary sad, in early day,

I bend my knee to thee.
From sun to sun

My race will run,

I only bow, and say,

My God, thy will be done."

H. K. WHITE.

The Budding Traf.

Now Nature wears her vernal hue;
Again will poets sing

Of" daisies pied and violets blue,"
And all the charms of spring.
The budding leaves with joy we see,
And former bliss recall;

But O, what may our feelings be,

When these young leaves shall fall?

Then hearts, which now are throbbing high
With hopes that wildly soar,

May heave sad disappointment's sigh,

And learn to hope no more :

The maid, whose eyes, whose smiles, whose bloom

Are soft enchantment all,

May sink, love's victim, in the tomb,
When these young leaves shall fall.

The mind whose energy and fire
Shines through the sparkling eye,
May then-O fate forlorn and dire !
A wreck, a ruin lie:

Its reason fled, its judgment lost,
While fancied fears appal,

In whirls of stormy passion toss'd
When these young leaves shall fall.

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THE BUDDING LEAF.

And many a one, whose soul is twined
With a soul of kindred truth,
Whose passion, ardent, yet refined,
Survives the charms of youth.
May sadly mourn love's broken tie
Within the lonely hall,

And heave the solitary sigh,

When these young leaves shall fall.

O man! thy date of joy is brief,
More brief is pleasure's hour-
It withers like the blighted leaf,

Fades like the gather'd flower.
The view is awful, yet sublime,

Of earth's still changeful ball;

I shrink while musing on the time
When these young leaves shall fall.

But hark! I hear an airy voice

Soft whispering in my ear

"Thou who dost mourn when most rejoice,
And saddenest hope with fear,
Thy worldly cares and woes may rest
Within the churchyard wall,

And dark weeds wither on thy breast,
When these young leaves shall fall.”

ANON.

Bqmn to Virtue.

EVER lovely and benign,
Endowed with energy divine,

Hail, Virtue, Hail! From thee proceed
The great design, th' heroic deed,
The heart that melts for human woes,
Valour, and truth, and calm repose.
Though Fortune frown, though Fate prepare
Her shafts, and wake corroding Care,
Though watchful clouds involve the skies,
Though lightnings glare and storms arise,
In vain to shake the guiltless soul,
Changed fortune frowns and thunders roll.

Pile, Avarice, thy yellow hoard;
Spread, Luxury, thy costly board;
Ambition crown thy head with bays;
Let Sloth recline on beds of ease;
Admired, adored, let Beauty roll
The magic eye that melts the soul;—
Unless with purifying fires,

Virtue the conscious soul inspires,

In vain, to bear intruding woe,

Wealth, fame, and power, and pleasure flow.

To me thy sovereign gift impart▬▬

The resolute, unshaken heart.