The man who tills the blessed Saviour's land,

Must sow a seed that oft is long a growing; And she that would assist with patient hand, Must water daily while her spouse is sowing.

The world besieges sore the wedded pair,

many a charm of youth is early blighted, But Heaven preserve ye both from fruitless care, And bless the day whereon ye were united.

A POOR MAN'S REASONS FOR NOT MARRYING.

I HEARD thy voice amid the psalm,
Where many voices meet,

Yet thy low voice was like a calm,

It was so soft and sweet.

"Twas like a calm upon the ocean,

When seas have been in wild commotion.

I heard thy voice one summer eve

Within thy lowly cot,

When I am sure thou didst believe

That mortal heard it not.

And then thy voice was bold and strong,
Singing a solitary song.

I heard a meagre mother sing,
With small and whining note,
To soothe a little pining thing,
From bare and hungry throat;
And then I thought, O lady mine,
May never such a song be thine!

LINES WRITTEN IMPROMPTU AFTER HEARING

A LADY SINGING.

LIKE a blithe birdie in a darksome isle

Of changeless holly 'mid a spacious wood;

Such was the song, and such the pensive smile, Robed in the garb of early widowhood.

And yet not so, the birdie has a nest,

And sings of hopes and joys that yet are coming, When every bush is in its vernal best,

And all her callow brood are sunk to rest

To thousand thousand insects' joyous humming.
But not in hope the human songstress trills
The lilt of joy, or long, long note of sorrow;

We sing not well till frequent proofs of ills
Have made us too distrustful of to-morrow;
And yet sometimes we gladly would be gay—
So let's rejoice in joy of yesterday.

December 26, 1835.

GOOD NIGHT.

GOOD night, good friend, good night to thee,
Good night, sweet lady fair and free,

For the night has been a good night to me,
Though thou art come from a far countree.

Smiles soft and still, not laughter high,
Have gladden'd our quiet company,

And ever and aye with a happy sigh
Thou smilest on the baby sleeping by.

See how the baby smiles in her sleep.

What dream on her soul doth lightly creep?

What fancy so pretty is playing bo-peep

With the innocent's thoughts in the fields of sleep?

When slumbering babies smile in a dream,

'Tis their angel, as antique faith would deem, That plays with their hearts like a moonlight beam,

Stealing through chinks to a hidden stream.

Good night, good night, the smile is past,
And I must say good night at last;
I am long a-going, but hark to the blast,
And the rain that patters so loud and fast.

But I will carry sweet thought away,

To sweeten my bread for many a day, When I think of the beautiful babe that lay

So calm yet as bright as an image of May.

VALENTINE BY AN AGED LOVER.

SOME ladies like a man whose hair
Is bright as threads of gold,
Some the dark youth and some the fair,
But few the man that's old.

My locks were jetty black in May,
But latest autumn makes them grey.

Where is the maiden that will twine
Round dodder'd oak a lithe woodbine,

And choose an old man for her valentine?

"Twere vain to say thou shalt be free

To merry be or grave;

Better an old man's darling be,

Than be a young man's slave. "Twere vain to talk of common sense, And lessons of experience;

For tears that in the dim eye shine, And trace the wrinkle's furrow'd line, Were never shed by winsome valentine.