The waking dream-the shade as softly screening
The innocens sweetness of the opening bod
Which future love and sager thought encloses,
As dewy moss that swathes the swelling roses,
Till thought peers forth, and murmurs break to
wurde,
With human import, in the notes of birds.
And thus, sweet maid, thy voice so blithe and
Pours all the spring on the good grandsire's ear.
Filling his kind heart with a new delight,
Which Homer may in ancient days have known,
Till love and joy create an inward sight,
And blindness shapes a fair world of its own-
Let mutability then work its will,
The child shall be the same sweet creature still.
AGAIN I saw that lady fair:
Oh, what a beauteous change was there!
In a sweet cottage of her own
She sat, and she was all alone,
Save a young child she sung to rest
On its soft bed, her fragrant breast.
With happy smiles and happy sighs,
She kissed the infant's closing eyes,
Then, o'er him in the cradle laid,
Moved her dear lips as if she prayed;
She blessed him in his father's name :
Lo! to her side that father came,
And, in a voice subdued and mild,
He blessed the mother and her child!
-Thon takest not away. O death!
Thon strik'st-and absence perisheth;
Indifference is no more:
The future brightens on car sight,
For on the past is fallen a light
That tempts us to adore."
Two creatures of a pleasant life were mine ;
My house they filled with a perpetual joy;
Twin lamps that chased all darkness did they
shine-
My fairy girl and merry-hearted boy.
I never dreamed Death would their mirth destroy, For they were dwelling 'mid life's freshest springs, And I was busied with a fond employ,
Ranging the future on Hope's fearless wings, And gathering for them thence how many pleasant things!
In truth, I was a proud and joyful man,
As from the floor unto the very roof
Their murmured bursts of joy and laughter ran,
And jocund shouts which needed no reproofAll weariness, all gloom was kept aloof, By their quaint shows and fancies ever new, Now bending age with staff in its behoof, Now Island Crusoe and "Man Friday" true, Now shipmates far at sea with all their jovial crew.
But a dark dream has swept across my brain,
A wild, a dismal dream that will not break-
A rush of fear—an agony of pain—
Pangs and suspense that inly made me quake.-
My boy my boy! I saw thy sweet eyes take
A strange unearthly lustre, and then fade;
And oh! I deemed my heart must surely break,
As, stooping, I thy pleasant locks surveyed,
And felt that thou must die, and they in dust be laid.
Oh! precious in thy life of happiness!
Daily and hourly valued more and more,
Yet, to the few brief days of thy distress,
How faint all love my spirit knew before!
I turn and turn, and ponder o'er and o'er,
Insatiate, all that sad and dreamy time
Thy words thrill through me--in my fond heart's
I heard thy sighs, and tears shed for no crime,
And thy most patient love sent from a happier clime.
How Am tad sma sny ume-sense
Of the spreads furugh & ike a nating il
Python-for ever, then hast aushet dez
The-the pures me, pass where er I vil.
And all the traces thou hast left bus ill
The bottom of thine absence with more pain
I toil to keep thy bring image m
But fancy buriy doth her part mainsaia ;
I we, yet we then wa, my child! as I would fan.
In dreams for ever thy dear form I grasp.
In noonday reveries do I rove-then start-
And certainty, as with an iron casp,
Shuts down once more to misery my heart;
The world from thee as a shorn flower doth part
Ending its care and knowledge with Farewe!!!*
But in my soul a shrined life thou art,
Ordained with memory and strong hope to dwel And with all pure desires to sanctify thy cell
Spring like a spirit is upon the earthı—
Forth gush the flowers and fresh leaves of the tree,
And I had planned, with wonder and with mirth—
The bird, the nest, the blossom, and the bee
To fill thy boyish bosom-till its glee
O'erflowed my own with transport! In far years
I felt thy hand in mine, by stream and lea,
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