Heu! quantum minus est reliquis versari, quam tui meminisse! OH! sweetly o'er the Atlantic sea, Its silent course the vessel steers, Though many a land, and many a wave, How sweetly to the pensive mind And ne'er on earth shall feel again! Unclouded moon! o'er rippling seas Thou lookest down in placid grace; My thoughts, with those far distant dwell. Unclouded moon! 'tis sweet to mark Thine aspect, so serene and calm, Across the hot and fevered brow, When thou did'st shine as thou dost now ! Oh! brightly as of yesterday The dreams of vanished years awake, The hopes that flattered to betray, And left the joyless heart to break.- Endowed by youth with magic charm; It were a soothing thought, that thou To raise thy white, angelic brow, And gaze upon this lovely night; And that the very scenes might rise Upon thy mind's reverted eye, That draw from me a thousand sighs, In starting up-and passing by. 'Twere nothing did we die 'twere nought That leaves the bleak and barren sands. To see the stars that gem the sky Fade one by one, to note the leaves Drop from the boughs all witheringly, Through which the wintry tempest grieves 'Tis this that chills the drooping heart, Not parted yet not parted yet- Thou smilest bright, and shinest serene; All bleak and barren though it be, Although a scene of care and strife, Has still a charm in having thee! Blackwood's Magazine. THE MOSS ROSE, FROM THE GERMAN. THE angel of the flowers one day, The angel whispered to the Rose: 'Still fairest found, where all are fair 'For the sweet shade thou givest to me, 'Ask what thou wilt 'tis granted thee.' "Then,' said the Rose, with deepened glow, 'On me another grace bestow.' The spirit paused in silent thought, What grace was there that flower had not? A veil of moss the angel throws, ISABEL. TIME ARRESTING THE CAREER OF PLEASURE. FROM A DRAWING BY R. DAGLEY. STAY thee on thy wild career, Other sounds than mirth's are near; Spread not those white arms in air; Stay thee on thy mad career! Youth's sweet bloom is round thee now, Roses laugh upon thy brow; Radiant are thy starry eyes; Spring is in the crimson dyes O'er which thy dimpled smile is wreathing; Incense on thy lip is breathing; Light and Love are round thy soul,— But thunder-peals o'er June-skies roll; Even now the storm is near Then stay thee on thy mad career! Raise thine eyes to yonder sky, Clouds have veiled the new moonlight; These are emblems of the fate Look upon that hour-marked round, L. E. L. THE SPANISH MAIDEN'S FAREWELL. BY MATILDA BETHAM. MANUEL, I do not shed a tear Our parting to delay; I dare not listen to my fear, I dare not bid thee stay. The heart may shrink, the spirit fail, But Spaniards must be free! And pride and duty shall prevail O'er all my love for thee. Then go; and round that gallant head, Like banners in the air, Shall float full many a daring hope, And many a tender prayer. Should freedom perish-at thy death 'Twere madness to repine; And I should every feeling lose, Except the wish for mine. But if the destiny of Spain Be once again to rise! O! grant me heaven! to read the tale |