DESCRIPTION OF HAMPSTEAD.

A STEEPLE issuing from a leafy rise,
With farmy fields in front and sloping green,
Dear Hampstead, is thy southern face serene,
Silently smiling on approaching eyes.

Within thine ever shifting looks surprise,

Streets, hills, and dells, trees overhead now seen,
Now down below, with smoking roofs between,

A village, revelling in varieties.

Then northward what a range, with heath and pond,
Nature's own ground; woods that let mansions through,
And cottaged vales with pillowy fields beyond,
And clump of darkening pines and prospects blue,
And that clear path through all, where daily meet
Cool cheeks, and brilliant eyes, and morn-elastic feet.

SONG.

WRITTEN TO BE SET TO MUSIC BY VINCENT NOVELLO..

WHEN lovely sounds about my ears
Like winds in Eden's tree-tops rise,
And make me, though my spirit hears,
For very luxury close my eyes,
Let none but friends be round about
Who love the smoothing joy like me,
That so the charm be felt throughout,
And all be harmony.

And when we reach the close divine,
Then let the hand of her I love
Come with its gentle palm on mine
As soft as snow or lighting dove;
And let, by stealth, that more than friend
Look sweetness in my opening eyes,
For only so such dreams should end,
Or wake in Paradise.

9

THE GLOVE AND THE LIONS.

KING Francis was a hearty king, and loved a royal

sport,

And one day, as his lions fought, sat looking on the

court;

The nobles fill'd the benches round, the ladies by their side,

And 'mongst them sat the Count de Lorge, with one for whom he sigh'd:

And truly 'twas a gallant thing to see that crowning

show,

Valor and love, and a king above, and the royal beasts below.

Ramp'd and roar'd the lions, with horrid laughing

jaws;

They bit, they glared, gave blows like beams, a wind went with their paws;

With swallowing might and stifled roar, they roll'd on one another,

Till all the pit, with sand and mane, was in a thunderous smother;

THE GLOVE AND THE LIONS.

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The bloody foam above the bars came whizzing through the air:

Said Francis, then, "Faith, gentlemen, we're better here than there."

De Lorge's love o'erheard the king, a beauteous, lively dame,

With smiling lips and sharp bright eyes, which always seem'd the same;

She thought, The count, my lover, is brave as brave can be

He surely would do wondrous things to show his love

of me :

King, ladies lovers, all look on; the occasion is divine,

I'll drop my glove, to prove his love; great glory will be mine.

She dropp'd her glove, to prove his love, then look'd at him and smiled;

He bow'd, and in a moment leap'd among the lions

wild :

The leap was quick, return was quick, he has regain'd

the place,

Then threw the glove, but not with love, right in the lady's face.

"By God!" cried Francis, "rightly done!" and he rose from where he sat;

"No love," quoth he, "but vanity, sets love a task like that!"

ABOU BEN ADHEM AND THE ANGEL.

ABOU BEN ADHEM (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel, writing in a book of gold;
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold :
And to the presence in the room he said,

"What writest thou?" The vision rais'd its 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. 66

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 vanished. 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.