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LOVE OF HOME.
The Father Land
Old Scotia's Pipe
My Native Home
The Men of Merry England
America and England
The Emigrant
Thrice happy He
Home Happiness
The Forester
The Briton's Fireside
Lines on Revisiting the Country
Dirge for Oceola
Scotland

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FRIENDSHIP'S MEMORIES. Memory

Bowring A Dirge for an Infant Brother

Anon. To a Faded Primrose

Macgilvray Memory's Regrets

Carpenter The Minstrel's Lament

Anon. The Poet's Dirge

Lowell To Mary

Carey The Old Familiar Strain

Mackenzie Where is He ?

Ncelo To a Child

Anon. Wendell Philips

Lowell Meeting Again

Stanley

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Thou wakest from rosy sleep, to play

With bounding heart, my boy! Before thee lies a long bright day

Of summer and of joy.

Thou hast no heavy thought or dream

To cloud thy fearless eye;
Long be it thus life's early stream

Should still reflect the sky.

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MOTHER'S CRADLE HYMN. Yet, ere the cares of life lie dim

On thy young spirit's wings, Now in thy morn forget not Him

From whom each pure thought springs !

So in the onward vale of tears,

Where'er thy path may be, When strength hath bowed to evil years, He will remember thee!

HEMANS.

MOTHER'S CRADLE HYMN.

GENTLY, gently fall sweet sleep
O'er thine eyelids soft and deep;
Gently, as the breath of flowers
In the bright noon's honeyed hours ;
Gently, as the dews of heaven
On the wild rose at the even.

Thou art pure, my darling boy!
Lovely, bright, and full of joy,
Slumbering without dream of care,
Of life's sorrows unaware,
Like the flowers in spring that come
Gaily bursting into bloom.

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