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As gilds the west Sol's fading light,

Strong shadows back on earth are cast: Hope turns to Heaven in ardour bright

Vesting in twilight shades the past : Eve welcomes, in its holy gloom,

The birth-night of another dawnHope's setting rays the grave illume,

From whence will break eternal morn: Shadowless day the waking soul will viewMan, perfect made, will shades no more pursue.

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I loved thee long and dearly,

Florence Vane;
My life's bright dream and early

Hath come again; PER
I renew in my fond vision

My heart's dear pain,
My hopes, and thy derision,

Florence Vane.

The ruin lone and hoary, '

The ruin old
Where thou didst hark my story, money

At even told

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They are gathering proudly round me,

The spirits of the brave,
From all earth's fields of glory,

And many a storied wave.
Of every age and nation,

The sons of every clime,
Who've twined the deathless laurel

Around the brow of time.

No banner floats above them,

No warlike shout is there; They march, as march the stately stars,

Through pathless fields of air. What charm hath broke the sternness

Of your long and deep repose, Where the warrior's arm forgot at length

To grapple with his foes?

The war-cloud burst above ye,

Unheeded in its wrath;
The car of triumph rushed along,

Ye dreamed not of its path!
Why bide ye not the spirits' trump?

'Twill shake the earth and sea, And all the armies of the dead,

Shall bear that réveillé.

THE LOVER'S FAREWELL.

BY S. W. CONE. Farewell! Farewell! Such is the tone

That swells but once, and 's heard no more; When all ties break, 'tis sadly thrown

The last on life's receding shore,
But only falls to break the last,
And sever love from all that's past !

Farewell! Farewell ! it hymns the dirge

That floats around affection's bier, When passion's impulse fails to urge,

And nought but memory 's left that's dear; While lowly lies the form of love, And cold indifference sneers above.

Farewell! Farewell! So angels sung,

When forth on winds of wrath they flew,
And love of woman from them wrung

To paradise a last adieu ;
They bought with an eternal fall,
A year of joy in beauty's thrall !

Farewell! Farewell! though sadly sweet

The word floats on the evening air, Its sorrow 'll fade when next we meet,

And double sweetness will be there! Till then, love's thoughts, like angels, guard, And from thee ev'ry sorrow ward!

THE WILD HONEYSUCKLE.

BY PHILIP FRENEAU.

Fair flower, that dost so comely grow,

Hid in this silent, dull retreat, Untouched, thy honeyed blossoms blow,

Unseen, thy little branches greet: No roving foot shall find thee here, No busy hand provoke a tear.

By Nature's self in white arrayed,

She bade thee shun the vulgar eye,
And planted here the guardian shade,

And sent soft waters murmuring by;
Thus quietly thy summer goes,
Thy days declining to repose.

Smit with those charms, that must decay,

I grieve to see your future doom; They died-nor were those flowers less gay,

The flowers that did in Eden bloom ; Unpitying frosts, and autumn's power, Shall leave no vestige of this flower.

From morning suns and evening dews

At first thy little being came:
If nothing once, you nothing lose,

For when you die you are the same ;
The space between is but an hour,
The frail duration of a flower.

But tears are purer tests of truth

Keep old affections bright,
Long after we outlive our youth,

And life 's-in waneing light.

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FAREWELL, oh thou star of my being! whose smile

Was a beacon of hope to my wilderness earth; Whose voice, like an orphean lute, could beguile

The sorrow of life, till it melted to mirth. Thou art gone to a land where the eye knows no tear;

Where the brow never fades at the touch of decay; But the heart thou hast left, feels its loneliness here,

For the warmth of its summer hath faded away.

Like a sun-gilded lake, in whose waters are glassed

The forms of the roses that bloom on its shore, Thy soul-mirrored love; but death's gloomy wing passed,

And ruffled the wave till it mirrored no more. Thy flight was at twilight; the sun's golden glare

Had paled at the death of a beautiful day; But one beam, like an angel, seemed lingering there,

To light thy dear spirit in beauty away.

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