So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, that moves

To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death,

Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and

soothed

By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.

THE LAPSE OF TIME.

LAMENT who will, in fruitless tears,

The speed with which our moments fly;

I sigh not over vanished years,

But watch the years that hasten by.

Look, how they come, a mingled crowd

-

Of bright and dark, but rapid days; Beneath them, like a summer cloud, The wide world changes as I gaze.

What! grieve that time has brought so soon The sober age of manhood on ?

As idly might I weep, at noon,

To see the blush of morning gone.

Could I give up the hopes that glow

In prospect, like Elysian isles; And let the charming future go, With all her promises and smiles?

The future!

cruel were the power

Whose doom would tear thee from my heart. Thou sweetener of the present hour!

We cannot

no- we will not part.

Oh, leave me, still, the rapid flight
That makes the changing seasons gay,
The grateful speed that brings the night,
The swift and glad return of day;

The months that touch, with added grace,
This little prattler at my knee,

In whose arch eye and speaking face
New meaning every hour I see;

The years, that o'er each sister land
Shall lift the country of my birth

And nurse her strength, till she shall stand.
The pride and pattern of the earth;

Till younger commonwealths, for aid,
Shall cling about her ample robe,
And from her frown shall shrink afraid
The crowned oppressors of the globe.

True-time will seam and blanch my brow -
Well - I shall sit with aged men,
And my good glass will tell me how
A grizzly beard becomes me then.

And should no foul dishonor lie

Upon my head, when I am gray,
Love yet shall watch my fading eye,
And smooth the path of my decay.

Then, haste thee, Time - 'tis kindness all
That speeds thy winged feet so fast;
Thy pleasures stay not till they pall,
And all thy pains are quickly past.

Thou fliest and bear'st away our woes,
And as thy shadowy train depart,
The memory of sorrow grows

A lighter burden on the heart.

TO THE EVENING WIND.

SPIRIT that breathest through my lattice, thou
That cool'st the twilight of the sultry day,
Gratefully flows thy freshness round my brow;
Thou hast been out upon the deep at play,
Riding all day the wild blue waves till now,
Roughening their crests, and scattering high
their spray,

And swelling the white sail. I welcome thee
To the scorched land, thou wanderer of the sea!

Inhale thee in the fulness of delight; And languid forms rise up, and pulses bound Livelier, at coming of the wind of night; And, languishing to hear thy grateful sound, Lies the vast inland stretched beyond the sight. Go forth, into the gathering shade; go forth, God's blessing breathed upon the fainting earth!

Go, rock the little wood-bird in his nest,

Curl the still waters, bright with stars, and rouse