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And now it is passing over the river,
Balmy breeze!—I behold not thee,
-The imperial votaress passed on
In maiden meditation, fancy free.
Midsummer's Night Dream.
Shall I never see a bachelor of three-score again?
WHEN the tree of love is budding first,
Ere yet its leaves are green,
Ere yet, by shower and sunbeam nurst
The wild bee's slightest touch might wring
As the gentle dip of the swallow's wing
But when its open leaves have found
A home in the free air,
Pluck them, and there remains a wound
The blight of hope and happiness
Is felt when fond ones part, And the bitter tear that follows is The life-blood of the heart.
When the flame of love is kindled first,
Come on the memory, they pass o'er
But when that flame has blazed into
And smiled in scorn upon the dew
That fell in its first warm hour,
"T is the flame that curls round the martyr's head,
Whose task is to destroy !
"T is the lamp on the altars of the dead,
Whose light is not of joy!
Then crush, even in their hour of birth,
The infant buds of Love,
And tread his growing fire to earth,
Ere 't is dark in clouds above;
BY J. W. MILLER.
FAIR lot befall the minstrel!
Bright sky and shadeless earth.
To breathe the tints of beauty,
Let spring for him the fountains,
For he is born of them,—
To weave for him the song-spell,
Trace ye his boundless empire
With pencils of the red fire
He walks a monarch there!
Its clouds his temple dome,
And when the day is glowing
That he may know what dreams float
And fair befall the minstrel
In princely halls of wassail
Fill him the cup of cheer, While o'er the conqueror's festal
THE MERMAID'S SONG.
His harp is linging clear;
Spread fresh his heather bed,
So through life's deserts dreary,
COME, mariner, down in the deep with me,
For I have a bed of coral for thee;
On a pillow of pearls thine eye shall sleep, And nothing disturb thee there;
The fishes their silent vigils shall keep― There shall be no grass thy grave to sweep But the silk of the Mermaid's hair.