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A PHILOPENE.

47

A PHILOPENE.

LINES WRITTEN ON PRESENTING A BOOK TO A YOUNG LADY, AS A PHILOPENE PRESENT

LADY, accept this gift,

An offering of the heart

On Friendship's shrine;

Its worth is small, its pages few,
And what is here may not be new,

But still the gift is mine.

Lady, accept the gift,

And read, for him who gave,

The Philopene ;

And when afar his steps shall roam,

To cheer with smiles thy quiet home,

This little book be seen.

ANON.

48

RETROSPECT.

A RETROSPECT.

THUS far life's little journey through,
Of scenes forever gone
I'll take one retrospective view,
Before I speed me on.

Here, on this little hillock placed,
A moment let me stand-
Before me lies a desert waste;
Behind, a fairy land.

Yes; happy was my youthful day;
I trod enchanted ground;

My spring, like other springs, was gay,
And roses bloomed around:

And now, though flying o'er my head
Are youth's departing years,
And often though the path I tread
Is watered by my tears;-

Still Hope, in many a gloomy hour,

Through many a weary mile,

Has cheered me with the magic power
Of her bewitching smile.

But Hope, farewell! thy visions bright
Have dazzled me too long;

RETROSPECT.

And shall I stay to watch thy flight,
And hear thy parting song?

No! let me turn-it is enough-
Too many tears have flowed:
The sky is dark,-the way is rough ;-
But 't is the pilgrim's road:

And pilgrim-like, with staff and shell,
And cloth'd in habit gray,
I bid the smiling past farewell,
And speed me on my way.

But wherefore should my courage fail,
And strains of sorrow flow?
Why need I, through this gloomy vale,
A lonely wanderer go?

I see a little cheerful band;

I hear their songs resound;-
Onward they travel, hand in hand,
And all for Zion bound.

The sterile plain, the desert drear,
Where howls the chilling blast-
The pains and perils that I fear-
Already they have past.

And kindly would they welcome me :
They bid me not despond;

For they a fairer land can see,

And brighter skies beyond.

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50

A THOUGHT.

O then, though fainting and distressed,
I will my way pursue:

There is a home, there is a rest,

There is a heaven in view.

JANE TAYLOR.

A THOUGHT.

My birth-day of nature I've oftentimes kept,
And rejoiced in the revels of youth;

Yet 't was all but a dream, for I slumbered and slept,
Quite a stranger to God and his truth.

But he pitied my soul-I awoke from my sleep— And He saved me in infinite love :

A new birth-day my Saviour has taught me to keep,

For again I was born from above.

And now I believe that the God of all peace
Will be mine till with age I am hoary;
But if angels rejoiced at my birth-day of grace,
How they'll sing at my birth-day of glory!
LEIGH RICHMOND.

TO LAURA.

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TO LAURA, TWO YEARS OF AGE.

BRIGHT be the skies that cover thee,

Child of the sunny brow-
Bright as the dream flung o'er thee
By all that meets thee now.
Thy heart is beating joyously,
Thy voice is like a bird's,
And sweetly breaks the melody
Of thy imperfect words.

I know no fount that gushes out
As gladly as thy tiny shout.

I would that thou might'st ever be
As beautiful as now,-

That time might ever leave as free
Thy yet unwritten brow.

I would life were "all poetry"

To gentle measure set,

That nought but chastened melody
Might stain thine eye of jet-
Nor one discordant note be spoken,
Till God the cunning harp hath broken.

I would-but deeper things than these
With woman's lot are wove;
Wrought of intenser sympathies,
And nerved by purer love-

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