Let your light sisters play; Of the dead cold year, And make her grave green with tear on tear. SHELLEY. Y THE AMULET. OUR picture smiles as first it smiled, Give me an amulet that keeps Red when you love, and rosier red, And when you love not, pale and blue. Alas, that neither bonds nor vows Can certify possession; Torments me still the fear that love Died in its last expression. EMERSON. THE CHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIFE. OW happy is he born and taught, H° That serveth not another's will; Whose passions not his masters are; Of publick fame or private breath : Who envies none that chance doth raise, Who hath his life from humours freed; Who late and early doth God pray With a well-chosen book or friend : This man is freed from servile bands ; SIR HENRY WOTTON. A [WANT OF SLEEP.] FLOCK of sheep that leisurely pass by, One after one; the sound of rain, and trees Murmuring; the fall of rivers, winds and seas, Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and pure sky; I thought of all by turns, and yet I lie Sleepless! and soon the small birds' melodies Must hear, first utter'd from my orchard trees; And the first cuckoo's melancholy cry. Even thus last night, and two nights more, I lay, Without Thee what is all the morning's wealth? ABOU BEN ADHEM AND THE ANGEL. (D'HERBELOT-BIBLIOTHEQUE ORIENTALE, A BOU Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase) peace, And saw, within the moonlight in his room, head, And with a look made of all sweet accord, Answer'd, "The names of those who love the Lord." "And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so," Replied the Angel. Abou spoke more low, But cheerly still; and said, "I pray thee then, Write me as one that loves his fellow-men." The angel wrote, and vanish'd. The next night It came again with a great wakening light, And show'd the names whom love of God had bless'd, And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest. LEIGH HUNT. LUCY ASHTON'S SONG. 66 [FROM THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR."] L OOK not thou on beauty's charming; SCOTT. I A DREAM. HEARD the dogs howl in the moonlight night, And I went to the window to see the sight; All the dead that ever I knew Going one by one and two by two. On they pass'd, and on they pass'd; Born in the moonlight of the lane, Schoolmates, marching as when we play'd Straight and handsome folk; bent and weak too; A long, long crowd-where each seem'd lonely. How long since I saw that fair pale face! On, on, a moving bridge they made Across the moon-stream, from shade to shade: Young and old, women and men; Many long-forgot, but remember'd then. And first there came a bitter laughter; W. ALLINGHAM, C |