'TWAS eve. EVENING THOUGHTS. The lengthening shadows of the oak The sun had set; but his expiring beams Yet lingered in the west, and shed around Beauty and softness o'er the woods and streams, With coming night's first tinge of shade embrowned. The light clouds mingled, brightened with such gleams Of glory, as the seraph-shapes surround, That in the visions of the good descend, And o'er their couch of sorrow seem to bend. There are emotions in that grateful hour -We reveal The thirsty glebe of summer.- The heavens look down on us with eyes of love, Of nature is around us, but above Are beings that eternal vigils keep. "Tis sweet to dwell on such, and deem they strove With sorrow once, and fled from crowds to weep In loneliness, as we perchance have done; And sigh to win the glory they have won! P 'Tis sweet to mark the sky's unruffled blue Fast deepening into darkness, as the rays Of lingering eve die fleetly, and a few Stars of the brightest beam illume the haze, Like woman's eye of loveliness, seen through The veil that shadows it in vain ;—we gaze In mute and stirless transport, fondly listening, As there were music in its very glistening. 'Tis thus in solitude; but sweeter far By those we love, in that all-softening hour, To watch with mutual eyes each coming star, And the faint moon-rays streaming through our bower Of foilage, wreathed and trembling, as the car Of night rolls duskier onward, and each flower And shrub that droops above us, on the sense Seems dropping fragrance more and more intense! Oh Love! undying and ethereal Love! Thou habitant of heaven strayed to earth! Or boon of the Beneficent above To worlds, that, void of thee, were worlds of dearth! Soft as thy Cytherean mother's dove As thine own Psyche bright-eyed from thy birth, Poets might feign, or priests of old conceive thee, And heathen maids delightedly believe thee! Not in the leafy haunts and hushed retreats From Ajut's icy regions to the Line— J. G. G. THE NORTHERN STAR. WRITTEN AT TYNEMOUTH, NORTHUMBERLAND. "THE Northern Star Sailed o'er the Bar, Bound to the Baltic Sea : In the morning grey She stretched away— 'Twas a weary day to me. 'And many an hour, In sleet and shower, By the light-house rock I stray, And watch till dark For the winged bark Of him that's far away. "The Church-yard's bound I wander round, Among the grassy graves; But all I hear Is the North wind drear, And all I see, the waves!' Oh roam not there, Thou mourner fair, Nor pour the fruitless tear! Thy plaint of woe Is all too low The dead, they cannot hear. The Northern Star Is set afar, Set in the raging sea; And the billows spread O'er the sandy bed, That holds thy love from thee! Newcastle Courant. THE INCOGNITA. WRITTEN UNDER THE PORTRAIT OF AN UNKNOWN LADY. UPON her cheek the eye may trace That wins and then detains the sight. On her smooth brow her chesnut hair No impress of her seal is set. From those rich tresses to the view Within its pupil works a spell Which fills the mind, we know not why, With scenes on which our thoughts would dwell We gaze and grieve, and still we gaze, And mourn, that Time can never raise One flower like that his touch has broken. Leeds Intelligencer. B. B. W. TO A BUTTERFLY RESTING ON A SKULL. BY MRS. HEMANS. CREATURE of air and light! To chase the south-wind through the sunny sky? With Silence and Decay, Fixed on the wreck of dull Mortality? The thoughts once chambered there, Have gathered up their treasures, and are gone! They that have burst the prison-house are flown ? If thou wouldst trace their way!— Earth has no voice to make the secret known. Who seeks the vanished bird, By the forsaken nest and broken shell? Far thence, he sings unheard, Yet free and joyous midst the woods to dwell. Take the bright wings of morn !— Thy hope calls heavenward from yon ruined cell. Literary Gazette. |