O Prince Messiah! Man Divine!
Be this our aim below,

To follow where thy footsteps shine,
And all thy mercy show.

And then beyond the starry cope,

The angel host among,

Let bliss supplant the reign of hope,
And love exult in song.

XXIV. THE UNATTENDED HEARSE.

(1847.)

ALONE, without a single friend,

A single mourner near,
The march funereal to attend,

And drop the silent tear,
He passeth to his long repose,
Within the narrow tomb;
And no beloved kinsman knows
His melancholy doom.

The stranger stood beside his bed,

To minister relief;
Disposed his pillow, raised his head,

And felt a stranger's grief;

Nor left him to the very last,

But watched his waning life,
Till death's dark Rubicon was passed,
And closed the mortal strife.

O! 'tis a pleasant thing to know,
That o'er us when we die,

A mother's heart will pour its wo,
A sister heave a sigh;

A brother sometimes come to weep,
At our sepulchral stone;

A father there his vigils keep,

Wert thou a husband? oft at eve,

For thy prolonged return,

Shall she, the loved one, sit and grieve,

Ere she the tidings learn;

And when the heavy news shall come,
Of thy untimely fate,

How shall her blooming Eden home
Grow drear and desolate!

Wert thou a father? far away,

Thy orphan babes shall mourn; And cry-" "Where does my father

Why does he not return?" And how can she, so late bereft,

Inform her babes that thou

Thy cottage home for aye hast left,
And they are orphans now?

stay?

XXV. TEARS AND SMILES.

(1847.)

Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning."

ALL wither'd, like the autumn leaf,

My joyous hopes, alas, have perished;
The frost of death, the storms of grief,
Have blighted all the buds I cherished.

Flown is my bird of Paradise,

And hush'd her pleasant song forever;
Fallen my star from out the skies,

And quenched, to be rekindled never.

And thou afar, my life, my light,

Art bowed in sickness and in sorrow;
And I, who sigh in dreams to-night,
May wake a widow'd soul to-morrow.

But why, my stricken heart, complain
Of what thy Father's love is sending;
The wormwood cup of grief and pain,
With sweetest drops of mercy blending?

Away, ye gloomy thoughts, away!
Return again, ye gleams of gladness!
Awake, my lute, a lightsome lay
I'll sing, and sing away my sadness.

For lo! the angel of the dawn

The radiance from his wings is flinging;
The night is spent, the clouds are gone,

The flow'rets bloom, and birds are singing.

XXVI. TO MY DEAR BROTHER THALES.

(1847.)

WE grew from early infancy,
Together side by side-

Together sat beneath the thorn,
And roamed the meadows wide-

Together chased the butterfly,

And plucked the forest flowers;
And deemed the days and weeks the while
So many pleasant hours

Together wandered in the wood,

And traced the winding brook,
Till every tree and ripple grew
Familiar in its look-

Together warbled with the birds,
Or listened to their song,
As sauntering side by side we went,
And hand in hand along-

Together watched the fleecy clouds
O'er azure seas above;

And thought the angels in them sat,
And smiled upon our love!

O sweetly did our simple souls
As streams together glide!

And joy to joy, and hope to hope,
As bird to bird, replied!

Ah, brother dear! the fond caress

And joyous dream are o'er;
And I, who loved thy face so well,
May see that face no more!

For rivers now between us roll,
And hills between us loom;
And I, in slow but sure decay,
Am tending to the tomb!

And hard it seems to meet my fate,
Afar from friends so dear;
With none but strangers round my bed,
And strangers round my bier!

O, once again! but once again!
And then, without a sigh,
In sweet content, and cheerful hope,
I lay me down and die!

XXVII. MY LITTLE POETESS. (1847.)

SHE was a star, whose golden ray

The firmament illumed;

A flower that through the livelong day, The atmosphere perfumed.