BY PAST TIMES.

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BY-PAST TIMES.

THE sky is blue, the sward is green,
The leaf upon the bough is seen;
The wind comes from the balmy west,
The little songster builds its nest;
The bee hums on from flower to flower,
Till twilight's dim and dusky hour;
The joyous year arrives-but when
Shall by-past times come back again?

I think on childhood's glowing years-
How soft, how bright, the scene appears!
How calm, how cloudless, passed away
The long, long summer holiday!
I may not muse-I must not dream-
Too beautiful these visions seem
For earth and mortal man; but when
Shall by-past times come back again?

Alas! the world at distance seen
Appeared all blissful and serene,
An Eden, formed to tempt the foot,
With crystal streams and golden fruit;
That world, when tried and trod, is found

A rocky waste, a thorny ground!

We then revert to youth; but when
Shal by-past times come back again?

ANON.

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TO A FRIEND.

TO A FRIEND,

APRIL 16.

WITH garlands of primroses crowned,

And smiling through eloquent tears--
Her violets springing around,

Sweet April returning appears:

Though showers have darkened her changeable

sky,

To me she is fairer than blooming July.

For sparkling with sunbeams I see,

In April's fair retinue here,
What still is accounted by me

The loveliest day in the year:

And soft gratulations shall ever ascend,
To welcome the morning that gave me a friend.

But what to that morning I owe,

Which dawned on my infantile state

What blessings it came to bestow

What light it has shed on my fate

What sweet it has yielded, what balm for distress; I ask not the language of song to express.

Hope, joy, consolation and peace,

That day on my infancy beamed:
My smiles bade it welcome-and these
Prophetic of happiness seemed:

TO A FRIEND.

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And might not the tears which unconsciously fell, Possess a significant meaning as well!

O friend of my bosom! I stray

Through life's chequered valleys with thee: If clouds ever darken thy way,

Their shadows must fall upon me:

While stars that illumine thy pilgrimage, shine, With beams of encouraging mercy, on mine.

Then whether it enter arrayed

In all the fair colors of spring,

Or wrapped in as hoary a shade

As winterly tempests can bring,

This day to my heart will forever appear
The brightest, the loveliest day in the year.
JANE TAYLOR.

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DAS LIEBEN'S ZIEL.

DAS LIEBEN'S-ZIEL.

WE seek that which we ne'er can win-
And love what cannot last;
Our life is but a thought between
The future and the past.

We mourn for things all fled away:
For feelings time has chilled;
And cherish for some future day,
Hopes, ne'er to be fulfilled!

We struggle through life's dreamy years,
With few glad visions blest;

And when our last, best home appears,

We enter it-to rest!

ANON.

TO JULIA.

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TO JULIA.

WHEN Time was entwining the garland of years, Which to crown my beloved was given,

Though some of the leaves might be sullied with

tears,

Yet the flowers were all gathered in heaven.

And long may this garland be sweet to the eye,
May its verdure forever be new;

Young love shall enrich it with many a sigh,

And sympathy nurse it with dew.

T. MOORE.