TO HELEN.

WHAT prayer, dear Helen, shall I pray, On this my brightest ho'iday,

To the great Giver of all good,

By whom our thoughts are understoodLowly or lofty, wild or weak

Long ere the tardy tongue can speak?

For you, my treasure. let me pray
That, as swift Time shall steal away
Year after year, you ne'er may deem
The radiance of this morning's beari
Less happy-holy—than you know
It dawned for us two years ago.

And for our infants let me pray—
Our little precious babes-that they,
Whate'er their lot in future years,
Sorrow or gladness, smiles or tears,
May own whatever is, is just,
And learn their mother's hope and trust.

And for my own heart let me pray

That God may mould me day by day,

By grace descending from above,
More worthy of the joy and love
Which His beneficence divine

On this, my best of days, made mine. (JULY 7, 1837.)

SONNET

WRITTEN IN THE FIRST LEAF OF LOCKHART'S "LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT."

Lo the magician, whose enchantments lend
To the dim past a fresh and fairy light,
Who makes the absent present to our sight,
And calls the dead to life! Till time shall end,
O'er him the grateful Muses shall extend

Unfading laurels; yet methinks, of right,
With holier glory shall his fame be bright,-
Leal subject, honest patriot, cordial friend.
Of such a spirit, by your cheerful fire

This record, Helen, welcome shall appear;
To which your husband-lover's duteous lyre,
Not tuneless yet, sweet Helen, to your ear,
Adds the warm wish these winter eves inspire,

"A merry Christmas, and a glad New Year!"

(DECEMBER 25, 1837.)

WRITTEN IN THE

GIVEN BY

VERSES

FIRST LEAF OF A CHILD'S BOOK,

TO HER GODSON, AGED FOUR.

My little Freddy, when you look
Into this nice new story-book

Which is my Christmas present,
You'll find it full of verse and prose,
And pictures too, which I suppose

Will make them both more pleasant.

Stories are here of girls and boys,
Of all their tasks, and all their toys,

Their sorrows and their pleasures;
Stories of cuckoos, dogs, and bees,
Of fragrant flowers and beauteous trees,
In short, a hoard of treasures.

When you have spelled the volume through,
One tale will yet remain for you,—

(I hope you'll read it clearly ;)
'Tis of a godmamma, who proves
By such slight token, that she loves
Her godchild very dearly.

(DECEMBER 25, 1837.)

TO HELEN,

WITH A SMALL CANDLESTICK-A BIRTHDAY PRESENT.

IF, wandering in a wizard's car

Through yon blue ether, I were able

To fashion of a little star

A taper for my Helen's table,

"What then?" she asks me with a laugh ;—

Why then, with all Heaven's lustre glowing, It would not gild her path with half

The light her love o'er mine is throwing!

(FEBRUARY 12, 1838.)