Oh! when it stopped, the boat, and damsels three
Charming the calm air with their triple glee,
While all the shadows on the lake projected,
Moved little as the mountains they reflected;
It seemed a thing ordained for aye to stay
Just where it was and sleep from day to day.
And when it moved with slide and gentle stroke,
Rippling the shadow of the hanging oak,
Sole motion, only life on all the mere,

"Twas like the motion of the lapsing year,

Which none would more expect or wish to cease
Than his own pulse.

The fancy of old Greece

That gave to beauty and to loveliness

The definite outline and the shape express,

Could not conceive, and therefore could not make,
Aught so divine as that still evening Lake,
With shadow deep, with gold and purple glowing,
And those three lovely maids upon its bosom rowing.

MARRIED LIFE.

WRITTEN ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF A WEDDING DAY.

THE earth once more hath run its annual round,
And smiles as faintly at the paling sun
As when by holy rite ye twain were bound,
And a glad brother's voice proclaimed ye one;

One in the Lord, as one in heart and choice,

For

ye

alike had chosen the better way,

And therefore will with holy glee rejoice,

When Autumn grave brings back the wedding-day.

All hath not haply been as young conceit

Of wedded bliss the story would compose, But have

ye found the song of love less sweet Because translated into household prose?

Duties there needs must be, and toils, and cares,

And there

may be some salutary pains,

That unexpected

come and unawares

To all that walk in wedlock's lightest chains.

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,
And 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.

1

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.

Dec. 26th, 1840.