We mourn for thee when blind, blank night
The chamber fills;

We pine for thee when morn's first light
Reddens the hills:

The sun, the moon, the stars, the sea,
All, to the wall-flower and wild-pea,

Are changed; we saw the world through thee,
Casa Wappy!

And though perchance a smile may gleam
Of casual mirth,

It doth not own, whate'er may seem,
An inward birth:

We miss thy small step on the stair ;
We miss thee at thine evening prayer ;
All day we miss thee, everywhere,

Casa Wappy!

Snows muffled earth when thou didst go,
In life's spring bloom,

Down to the appointed house below,
The silent tomb :

But

now the green leaves of the tree,

The cuckoo and "the busy bee,"

Return, but with them bring not thee, Casa Wappy!

'Tis so; but can it be (while flowers
Revive again)

Man's doom, in death that we and ours
For aye remain?

O, can it be that o'er the grave

The grass renewed should yearly wave,

Yet God forget our child to save ?

Heaven were a coinage of the brain,

Religion frenzy, Virtue vain,

And all our hopes to meet again,

Casa Wappy!

Then be to us, O dear, lost child!
With beam of love,

A star, death's uncongenial wild
Smiling above;

Soon, soon thy little feet have trod
The skyward path, the seraph's road,
That led thee back from man to God,
Casa Wappy!

Yet 't is sweet balm to our despair,
Fond, fairest boy,

That heaven is God's, and thou art there,
With him in joy :

There past are death and all its woes,
There beauty's stream for ever flows,

And pleasure's day no sunset knows,

Casa Wappy!

Farewell, then, for a while, farewell, —

Pride of my heart!

It cannot be that long we dwell,

Thus torn apart;

-

Time's shadows like the shuttle flee, And, dark howe'er life's night may be, Beyond the grave I'll meet with thee, Casa Wappy!

TO WILLIE IN HEAVEN.

THOU Cam'st like a dove from the land of the

blest,

To tell us of love in that heaven of rest;

But the dust of this earth would have sullied thy

wing

If thou longer hadst tarried, thou beautiful thing!

Thou blest little teacher the Father sent forth,
To tell us how simple and plain was the truth,
What a message was thine! how sublimely 't was
taught !

It came not in language, it uttered no thought.

'T was thy unconscious meekness, thy unshaken

trust,

Thy cherub-like purity dwelling in dust ;