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WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM, THE GIFT OF QUEEN ADELAIDE TO LADY MAYO.

A BEAUTIFUL and bounteous Fay
Beside a cradle sang one day;

The mother heard not, but the child

In her glad dream looked up and smiled.

"I bring thee a rose-a rose for thee,

The sweetest of my bower;

It is a token thou shalt be

As lovely and loved a flower:

Thou too shalt brightly bloom, and wear

In future years, as now,
Deep beauty in thy sunny hair,

Blue eyes, and tranquil brow.

"I bring thee a lute-an ivory lute;
I bring it for a sign

That Wit shall sue with an anxious suit
For a look or a word of thine.
Grave Science at thy feet shall lay
Whate'er the wise have known,
And Music charm thy cares away
With her most delicious tone.

"I bring thee a sceptre! wake and gaze
On the symbol of high command:
A nation's love, in after-days,

Shall trust it to thy hand,

When from thy home thou shalt depart
And go o'er the bounding wave
To be the Bride of a Monarch's heart,
The Queen of the free and brave.

"I bring thee a Book-a holy Book:
In all thy grief and mirth

It is a spell to bid thee look
Still up to Heaven from earth,
And turn to Him who alone forgives
With a firm and faithful trust,
And live the life which virtue lives,
And die as die the just!"

I need not whisper to your thought
For what fair child those gifts were wrought,

Nor tell how true our English eyes

Have found the Fairy's prophecies.

(1881.)

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WRITTEN IN THE SAME, UNDER A PICTURE OF THE DUCAL PALACE AT HESSE HOMBURG, THE RESIDENCE OF THE PRINCESS ELIZABETH, DAUGHTER OF GEORGE III.

It is a joyous land, I guess;

The sun shines bright, the breeze roves free; And Nature flings her fairest dress

On humble herb and lofty tree;

But thou wilt think in those far bowers,
With half a smile, and half a sigh,
Thy childhood wreathed as fragrant flowers,
And laughed beneath as warm a sky.

And proudly o'er those poplars tall
And tapering firs the Palace gleams;
But ah! the time-worn Castle's wall
Is still remembered in thy dreams;
And that broad Terrace still is dear,
Where, when the star of day went down,
Thy good old Sire went forth to hear

Rich blessings, richer than his crown.

And other friends are round thee now

Than those that shared thine early mirth;

And thou hast newer slaves to bow,

And foreign lutes to hymn thy worth;

But thou wilt never quite forget

That here, where first thy praise was heard,

Thy virtues are recorded yet,

Thy name is yet a household word.

And if thou ne'er mayst see again

The white cliffs of thy fatherland,

And if henceforth we seek in vain

Thy cheering smile and bounteous hand,Thou wilt be what thou wast and art,

Where'er thy bark may chance to roam; And thou wilt keep thine English heart, And thou wilt love thine English home! (1831.)

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WRITTEN UNDER A PORTRAIT OF LORD MAYO, DRAWN BY THE QUEEN.

A COURTIER of the nobler sort,

A Christian of the purer school;— Tory, when Whigs are great at Court, And Protestant, when Papists rule;

Prompt to support the Monarch's crown,
As prompt to dry the poor man's tears;
Yet fearing not the Premier's frown,
And seeking not the rabble's cheers;

Still ready,-favoured or disgraced,-
To do the right, to speak the true;-
The Artist who these features traced
A better Subject never knew!

(NOVEMBER, 1883.)

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WRITTEN UNDER A VIEW OF BERSTED LODGE, BOGNOR.

IF e'er again my wayward fate
Should bring me, Lady, to your gate,
The trees and flowers might seem as fair
As in remembered days they were;
But should I in their loved haunts find
The friends that were so bright and kind?

My heart would seek with vain regret
Some tones and looks it dreams of yet;
I could not follow through the dance
The heroine of my first romance;