If Anna spoke, 'twas often she expressed Some object, 'twas what Anna had in view. stream From the same fount; one cradle nestled them. While breast to breast, and cheek on cheek re cline, As from their eyes infantine beams the while T. SELSER. THE CHAUNTING CHERUBS. A PICTURE. WHENCE came ye, Cherubs? from the moon? Or from a shining star? Ye sure are sent a blessed boon, From kinder worlds afar; For while I look my heart is all delight: From moon, nor star, we hither flew; The stars they pale at morning dew: Nor change, nor night was ever ours to bear; Then, sons of light, from Heaven above, Come ye to chaunt eternal love, And tell how angels sing, And in your breathing conscious forms to show How purer forms above, live, breathe and glow. Our parent is a human mind; His winged thoughts are we; To sun nor stars are we confined: We pierce the deepest sea. Moved by a brother's call, our father bade DANA. LOST BROTHERHOOD. In a drear-nighted December, Thy branches ne'er remember Their green felicities: The north cannot undo them, With a sleeky whistle through them; From budding at the prime. In a dreary nighted December, But with a sweet forgetting, Never, never petting About the frozen time. 70 THE SISTERS OF SCIO. Ah! would 'twere so with many A gentle girl and boy! But were there ever any Writhed not at passed joy? To know the change and feel it, KEATS. THE SISTERS OF SC10. "SISTER, Sweet sister! let me weep a while! Bear with me-give the sudden passion way! Thoughts of our own last home, our sunny isle, Come, as a wind that o'er a reed hath sway! Till my heart dies with yearnings and sick fears: Oh! could my life melt from me in these tears! "Our father's voice, our mother's gentle eye, Our brother's bounding step-where are they, where? Desolate, desolate our chambers lie! How hast thou won thy spirit from despair? O'er mine swift shadows, gusts of terror sweep, I sink away-bear with me--let me weep!" "Yes, weep, my sister; weep till from thy heart The weight flow forth in tears, yet sink thou not; I bind my sorrow to a lofty part, For thee, my gentle one; our orphan lot To meet in quenchless trust; my soul is strong, Thou, too, wilt rise in holy might ere long. "A breath of our free heavens and noble sires, A memory of our old victorious dead,These mantle me with power; and though their fires In a frail censer briefly may be shed, Yet shall they light us onward, side by side ;Have the wild birds, and have not we, a guide? "Cheer, then, belov'd! on whose meek brow is set Our mother's image--in whose voice a tone, A faint sweet sound of her's, is lingering yet; An echo of our childhood's music gone ;Cheer thee, thy sister's heart and faith are high, Our path is one-with thee I live and die." HEMANS. |