ON TAKING LEAVE OF B

YES, the sigh will escape one, the tear of regret,
Though the charms of the scene may be few,

At resigning the dwelling where oft we have met,
And exchanged the impassion'd adieu.

The

eye

of the stranger shall wander around,

His feet through each chamber shall roam, Nor heed the mute records that tapestry round To our fancy, the walls of that home

Thy home, ere the cares and the joys of another

In hope's far perspective appear'd!

Long clings the fond heart to the home of a mother,

The haunt to a lover endear'd.

Oh, had not that lover continued the same,
When the bride left all other behind,

And had not thy husband's affection a claim

To compensate for all she resign'd,—

Then, then, could he pardon these tears of regret,

Which now unforbidden shall fall?

They would seem to reproach me that e'er we had

met;

They would seem that adieu to recall.

Or were there, Eliza, ensepultured here,
Any hopes that the future had crost,-
Any vows we had broken, remembrances dear,
In death or forgetfulness lost;-

Had some beloved inmate here languish'd her last,

And were we now taking our leave

Of the few fading tokens that spake of the past,

Oh, bitterly then might we grieve.

But now, not a spectre shall linger around,

O'er its desolate walks to complain :

And Change may her ploughshare drive over the

ground,

Where no seeds undevelop'd remain.

Then bestow not a sigh more on fond retrospection!
Thrice welcome, my Love, shalt thou be

To the far dearer home of a husband's affection,
Who possesses no home without thee.

That is home, whether beech-woods in loveliness shade it,

And tempt us at evening to roam,

Or the smoke and the din of the city invade it,

Where centres the heart, that is home.

Oh! the time will arrive when each place we have known

Shall resound with our footsteps no more.

A stranger shall call our last dwelling his own,

Regardless who dwelt there before.

And there is a home where the heart shall recover

Whate'er upon earth might not last.

What a meeting for Parent, and Sister, and Lover,

When all parting, all fears shall be past!

1816.

BIRTHDAY VERSES.

WITH thee, amid the wild recesses

Whence dreams of Fancy date their birth,

Where Nature's hand profusely dresses

Her green and flowery earth;

With thee, along the rushy mazes

Our wood-hung streamlet wanders through, Where king-cups weave with gold-eyed daisies The waters' living clew ;—

With thee I've shared the deepest pleasures

That Love o'er souls refined can pour,

And gazed on all the richest treasures

Of earth's romantic store.

With thee! O words of sense emphatic!

Spring-buds, and autumn-fall,

And summer prime-hours most ecstatic,

Without thee, what were all?

For I have trod the mossy border

Of woods that guard that haunted stream,

And watch'd all seasons in their order

Ruled by the changing beam.

The early wreaths that blow fantastic,
Each shade and change of forest green,
And shapes grotesque that breezes plastic

Fix on the wintry scene:

These, fraught with secret inspiration,

Have held me in communion deep,