What happy dreams, fair child, are given To cast their sunshine o'er thee? What cord unites that soul to Heaven? What visions glide before thee? — For wandering smiles of cloudless mirth O'er thy glad features beaming, Say, not a thought, a form of earth Alloys thine hour of dreaming. Mayhap, afar on viewless wings Thy sinless spirit soaring, Now hears the burst from golden strings Where angels are adoring; And with the pure heliacal throng, Thy joyous heart may join the song Sleep, lovely babe! - for time's cold touch Will make these visions wither; - Youth, and the dreams that charm so much, Shall fade and fly together. Then, sleep, while sleep is pure and mild, Ere earthly ties grow stronger, When thou shalt be no more a child, And dream of Heaven no longer. LEIGH HUNT. THOUGHT AND DEED. FULL many a light thought man may cherish, Yet not a deed or thought shall perish, When by the wind the tree is shaken, But of its falling heed is taken By One who sees, and governs all. The tree may fall, and be forgotten, Yet, from its juices rank and rotten, The world is with creation teeming, And things that are destroyed in seeming, And nature still unfolds the tissue, Of works unseen, by spirit wrought; And not a work but hath its issue With blessings or with evil fraught. Thou now may'st seem to leave behind thee All memory of the sinful past; Yet, oh! be sure, thy sin shall find thee, And thou shalt know its fruits at last. ANONYMOUS. THE WEEPER DEMENTED. SAW ye the mourner, reclining Where the damp earth was her bed, Where the young ivy-vines twining, Mantled the house of the dead? Heard ye the voice of the weeper Calling aloud to the sleeper,- Felt ye her wild notes of sorrow Dark is the wanderer's morrow, Soon she'll be sleeping again. Dim is her life's glimmering taper; Fast is she sinking to rest! Soon will the chill evening vapor Gather, unfelt, o'er her breast. |