CHILD ·Home, There's no home, us there neer met with elsewhere! - sweet, sweet home! • place like home! there's no place like home ! John Howard Fayne. / POEMS OF THE AFFECTIONS. BENEDICITE. FRIENDSHIP. God's love and peace be with thee, where Whether through city casements comes It freshens o'er thy thoughtful face, Imparting, in its glad embrace, Beauty to beauty, grace to grace ! Where'er I look, where'er I stray, O'er lapse of time and change of scene, Thou lack'st not Friendship's spellword, nor With these good gifts of God is cast If, then, a fervent wish for thee COME then, my friend! my genius! come along; O master of the poet, and the song! And while the muse now stoops, or now ascends, To man's low passions, or their glorious ends, Teach me, like thee, in various nature wise, To fall with dignity, with temper rise; Formed by thy converse happily to steer From grave to gay, from lively to severe; Correct with spirit, eloquent with ease, Intent to reason, or polite to please. O, while along the stream of time thy name Expanded flies, and gathers all its fame; Say, shall my little bark attendant sail, Pursue the triumph, and partake the gale? When statesmen, heroes, kings, in dust repose, Whose sons shall blush their fathers were thy foes, Shall then this verse to future age pretend Thou wert my guide, philosopher, and friend! That, urged by thee, I turned the tuneful art From sounds to things, from fancy to the heart: For wit's false mirror held up Nature's light; Showed erring pride, WHATEVER IS, IS RIGHT; That REASON, PASSION, answer one great aim; That true SELF-LOVE and SOCIAL are the same; That VIRTUE only makes our bliss below; And all our knowledge is, OURSELVES TO KNOW. ALEXANDER Pope. A GENEROUS friendship no cold medium knows, Burns with one love, with one resentment glows. POPE'S ILIAD. PARTED FRIENDS. FRIEND after friend departs: Beyond the flight of time, Beyond this vale of death, There surely is some blesséd clime Where life is not a breath, Nor life's affections transient fire, Whose sparks fly upward to expire. There is a world above, Where parting is unknown; A whole eternity of love, Formed for the good alone; And faith beholds the dying here Translated to that happier sphere. Thus star by star declines, Till all are passed away, As morning high and higher shines, Nor sink those stars in empty night; JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE. [Died in New York, September, 1820.] GREEN be the turf above thee, Friend of my better days! None knew thee but to love thee, Nor named thee but to praise. Tears fell, when thou wert dying, From eyes unused to weep, And long, where thou art lying, Will tears the cold turf steep. When hearts, whose truth was proven, And I, who woke each morrow To clasp thy hand in mine, Who shared thy joy and sorrow, Whose weal and woe were thine, It should be mine to braid it Around thy faded brow, But I've in vain essayed it, And feel I cannot now. While memory bids me weep thee, Nor thoughts nor words are free, The grief is fixed too deeply That mourns a man like thee. FITZ-GREENE HALLECK. EARLY FRIENDSHIP. THE half-seen memories of childish days, FRIENDSHIP. AUBREY DE VERE. No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice, Whose blood and judgment are so well co-mingled, man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him SHAKESPEARE. ""T is true," I'd not believe them more than thee, Thou noble thing! more dances my rapt heart We have a power on foot; and I had purpose Had we no other quarrel else to Rome, but that A thousand welcomes! SHAKESPEARE. WHEN TO THE SESSIONS OF SWEET SILENT THOUGHT. SONNET. WHEN to the sessions of sweet silent thought SHAKESPEARE. FRIENDS FAR AWAY. COUNT not the hours while their silent wings And the colors of life are gay, Let us think on those that have loved us dear, The Friends who are far away. Few are the hearts that have proved the truth Shall the gleam of remembrance play, Soft be the sleep of their pleasant hours, May the way they travel be strewed with flowers, HORACE TWISS. THE MEETING OF THE SHIPS. "We take each other by the hand, and we exchange a few words and looks of kindness, and we rejoice together for a few short moments; and then days, months, years intervene, and we see and know nothing of each other."- WASHINGTON IRVING. Two baiks met on the deep mid-sea, And voices of the fair and brave Rose mingling thence in mirth ; Moonlight on that lone Indian main And hands were linked, and answering eyes A little while such joy was cast Till the loud singing winds at last And proudly, freely on their way Never to blend in victory's cheer, FELICIA HEMANS |