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All-but that freedom of the mind

1

Which hath been more than wealth to me; Those friendships, in my boyhood twined, And kept till now unchangingly, And that dear home, that saving ark,

'Where Love's true light at last I've found, Cheering within, when all grows dark, And comfortless, and stormy round!

INSTABILITY OF AFFECTION.

ALAS!-how light a cause may move
Dissension between hearts that love!
Hearts that the world in vain had tried,
And sorrow but more closely tied ;

That stood the storm, when waves were rough,

Yet in a sunny hour fall off,

Like ships that have gone down at sea,
When heav'n was all tranquillity!
A something light as air-a, look,

A word unkind or wrongly taken—
Oh! love, that tempests never shook,
A breath, a touch like this hath shaken.
And ruder words will soon rush in
To spread the breach that words begin;
And eyes forget the gentle ray
They wore in courtship's smiling day;
And voices lose the tone that shed
A tenderness round all they said;
Till fast declining one by one,
The sweetnesses of love are gone,
And hearts so lately mingled, seem
Like broken clouds-or like the stream,
That smiling left the mountain's brow,
As though its waters ne'er could sever,
Yet, ere it reach the plain below,

Breaks into floods that part for ever.

STEAM IN THE DESERT.

EBENEZER ELLIOT,

BORN, 1781; DIED, 1850.

STEAM IN THE DESERT,

"GOD made all nations of one blood,"
And bade the nation-wedding flood
Bear good for good to men:
Lo, interchange is happiness!-
The mindless are the riverless!
The shipless have no pen!

What deed sublime by them is wrought?
What type have they of speech or thought?
What soul-ennobled page?

No record tells their tale of pain!
Th' unwritten History of Cain
Is theirs from age to age!

Steam!-if the nations grow not old
That see broad ocean's "back of gold,"
Or hear him in the wind-

Why dost thou not thy banner shake
O'er sealess, streamless lands, and make
One nation of mankind?

If rivers are but seeking rest,

E'en when they climb from ocean's breast
To plant on earth the rose-

If good for good is doubly blest

Oh! bid the severed east and west

In action find repose!

Yes, let the wilderness rejoice,

The voiceless campaign hear the voice

Of millions long estranged:

That waste, and want, and war may cease!

And all men know that Love and Peace

Are good for good exchanged!

279

Howitt's Journal.

REGINALD HEBER.

BORN, 1783; DIED, 1826.

HAPPINESS.

ONE morning in the month of May

I wandered o'er the hill;

Though nature all around was gay,
My heart was heavy still.

Can God, I thought, the just, the great,
These meaner creatures bless,
And yet deny to man's estate
The boon of happiness!

Tell me, ye woods, ye smiling plains,
Ye blessed birds around,

In which of nature's wide domains
Can bliss for man be found?

The birds wild carolled over head,
The breeze around me blew,
And nature's awful chorus said-
No bliss for man she knew.

I questioned love, whose early ray
So rosy bright appears,
And heard the timid Genius say-
His light was dimmed by tears.

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I questioned friendship: friendship sighed,
And thus her answer gave-
The few whom fortune never turn'd
Were withered in the grave.

I asked if vice could bliss bestow?
Vice boasted loud and well,
But fading from her withered brow
The borrowed roses fell.

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LOWLINESS OF MIND.

I sought of feeling, if her skill
Could soothe the wounded breast;
And found her mourning, faint, and still,
For others' woes distressed.

I questioned virtue: virtue sighed,
No boon could she dispense--
Nor virtue was her name, she cried,
But humble penitence.

I questioned death-the grisly shade
Relaxed his brow severe-
And-"I am happiness," he said,
"If virtue guides thee here."

HENRY KIRKE WHITE.
BORN, 1785; DIED, 1806;

LOWLINESS OF MIND.

O! I would walk

A weary journey, to the farthest verge
Of the big world, to kiss that good man's hand,
Who, in the blaze of wisdom and of art,
Preserves a lowly mind; and to his God,
Feeling the sense of his own littleness,
Is as a child in meek simplicity!
What is the pomp of learning? the parade
Of letters and of tongues; even as the mists
Of the gray morn before the rising sun,
That pass away and perish.-Earthly things
Are but the transient pageants of an hour;
And earthly pride is like the passing flower,
That springs to fall, and blossoms but to die

281

ON TIME.

WHO needs a teacher to admonish him

That flesh is grass, that earthly things are mist?
What are our joys but dreams? and what our hopes
But goodly shadows in the summer cloud?
There's not a wind that blows but bears with it
Some rainbow promise:-Not a moment flies
But puts its sickle in the fields of life,

And mows its thousands, with their joys and cares.
'Tis but as yesterday since on yon stars,
Which now I view, the Chaldee Shepherd* gazed
In his mid-watch observant, and disposed
The twinkling hosts as fancy gave them shape.
Yet in the interim what mighty shocks

Have buffeted mankind-whole nations razed-
Cities made desolate, the polish'd sunk
To barbarism, and once barbaric states
Swaying the wand of science and of arts;
Illustrious deeds and memorable names
Blotted from record, and upon the tongue
Of gray Tradition, voluble no more.
Where are the heroes of the ages past?

Where the brave chieftains, where the mighty ones
Who flourish'd in the infancy of days?

All to the grave gone down. On their fallen fame
Exultant, mocking at the pride of man,
Sits grim Forgetfulness.

INSTABILITY OF HUMAN GLORY.

O HOW Weak

Is mortal man! how trifling-how confined
His scope of vision! Puff'd with confidence,
His phrase grows big with immortality,
And he, poor insect of a summer's day!

* Alluding to the first astronomical observations made by the Chaldean shepherds

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