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WQR 19 FEB '36

POEM.

POEM.

WE meet to part! As when some timid bride,
Lingers her parents' long loved forms beside,
Smiles through her tears-half sorrowful, half gay,
Reluctant to be gone, yet loth to stay;

With heart alternate filled with hopes and fears,
Recalls the past, thinks of the dawning years,-
The laughing joys that circled round her home,
The scenes she leaves, the untried scenes to come;
So we, ere wandering from these quiet bowers,
Where Ease and Science strewed our path with flowers,
Pause to survey the moments here that flew,
And pierce that life now opening on our view.

In Fancy's glass a shadowy realm extends,
Where cloud with cloud in shifting drapery blends;
Some dim with mystery, indistinct of form,
Or dark, portentous of the boding storm;
Some bathed in all the iris hues and dyes

Which summer sunsets throw o'er southern skies;
And here and there, their parting folds reveal
Glimpses of gorgeous scenes they half conceal.
It is the Dream-land of the Future, where
Bright phantoms dancing paint the crimson air!
Of rosy joys a smiling train appears,

And scatter wreaths along the opening years.
The cherub Loves there wave their purple wings,
Her golden glories Fortune round her flings;
Ambition dazzles with the crown of state,

Fame proffers chaplets to reward the great;
And all the sister Muses joyous spread
The laurel-garland for their votary's head.
But at the portals of these spectre-lands,
What guardian-goddess robed in radiance stands ?
'Tis Hope her glittering standard free unfurls,
Beams smiles that bless, and shakes her golden curls;
Points to the bright-eyed pleasures blooming round,
And beck'ning bids us tread th' enchanted ground.

Our buoyant souls her winning voice inspires
With youth's warm zeal and ardor's quenchless fires;
With spirits that on eagle pinions soar,

We long this hidden Future to explore ;

Pant for release, exultingly resign

These placid shades, seats of the sacred Nine,

And eager press to mingle in the strife,

And bear our destined parts in busy life.

Oh! if on high availed the minstrel's prayer,
Your future bright as fancy's dreams should be;

Its sky unsullied by one cloud of care,

With naught to mar its sweet tranquillity! But why impatient its new scenes to try?

Why wish to speed the parting moment near? "Twill come full soon to rend each silken tie, That bound us in a band of brothers here.

Full soon the world's stern lessons shall be ours

That world for which we've sighed so oft and long,

Where Fancy paints a paradise of flowers,

And Hope allures us with her syren song.

Its cold realities must greet us now,

Perchance with icy withering breath, to blight The dreams which gave to youth its beaming browThose fond, fantastic visions of delight!

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