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THE CONVICT SHIP.

Morn on the waters !-and purple and bright
Bursts on the billows the flushing of light;
O’er the glad waves, like a child of the sun,
See, the tall vessel goes gallantly on.
Full to the breeze she unbosoms her sail,
And her pennon streams onward, like hope, in

the gale ; The winds come around her with murmur and

song, And the surges rejoice as they bear her along : See! she looks up to the golden-edged clouds, And the sailor sings gaily aloft in the shrouds : Onward she glides, amid ripple and spray, Over the waters—away, and away! Bright as the visions of youth, ere they part, Passing away, like a dream of the heart ! Who,-as the beautiful pageant sweeps by, Music around her, and sunshine on high, Pauses to think, amid glitter and glow, “ Oh! there be hearts that are breaking below !"

Night on the waves! and the moon is on high, Hung like a gem, on the brow of the sky, Treading its depths in the power of her might,

And turning the clouds, as they pass her, to

light ! Look to the waters ! asleep on their breast, Seems not the ship like an island of rest ? Bright and alone on the shadowy main, Like a heart-cherished home on some desolate

plain! Who--as she smiles in the silvery light, Spreading her wings on the bosom of night, Alone on the deep, as the moon in the sky, A phantom of beauty—could deem, with a sigh, That so lovely a thing is the mansion of sin, And that souls that are smitten, lie bursting

within ? Who—as he watches her silently glidingRemembers that wave after wave is dividing Bosoms that sorrow and guilt could not sever, Hearts which are parted and broken for ever ? Or deems that he watches, afloat on the wave, The death-bed of hope, or the young spirit's

grave ?

'Tis thus with our life, while it passes along,
Like a vessel at sea, amid sunshine and song!
Gaily we glide in the gaze of the world,
With streamers afloat, and with canvas unfurled,
All gladness and glory to wondering eyes,
Yet chartered by sorrow and freighted with

sighs :

Fading and false is the aspect it wears,
As the smiles we put on, just to cover our tears;
While the withering thoughts which the world

cannot know, Like heart-broken exiles, lie burning below; And the vessel drives on to that desolate shore Where the dreams of our childhood are vanished and o’er.

Her vey.

THE GRAVES OF A HOUSEHOLD.

They grew in beauty, side by side,

They filled one home with glee :
Their graves are severed, far and wide,

By mount, and stream, and sea.

The same fond mother bent at night

Oer each fair sleeping brow;
She had each folded flower in sight-

Where are those dreamers now?

One, 'midst the forest of the west,

By a dark stream is laid-
The Indian knows his place of rest,

Far in the cedar shade.

The sea, the blue lone sea, hath one

He lies where pearls lie deep; He was the loved of all, yet none

O’er his low bed may weep.

One sleeps where southern vines are drest,

Above the noble slain ;
He wrapt his colours round his breast

On a blood-red field of Spain.

And one-o'er her the myrtle showers

Its leaves, by soft winds fann'd; She faded ʼmidst Italian flowers

The last of that bright band.

And parted thus they rest, who played

Beneath the same green tree; Whose voices mingled as they prayed

Around one parent knee !

They that with smiles lit up the hall,

And cheered with song the hearth-
Alas! for love, if thou wert all,
And nought beyond, O earth!

Mrs. Hemans.

THE ANGELS GREETING.

“Hark! they whisper! Angels say,
Sister spirit, come away !'”

POPE.

Come to the land of peace ! Come where the tempest hath no longer sway, The shadow passes from the soul away

The sounds of weeping cease.

Fear hath no dwelling there !
Come to the mingling of repose and love,
Breathed by the silent spirit of the dove

Through the celestial air.

Come to the bright, and blest,
And crowned for ever! ’midst that shining band,
Gathered to Heaven's own wreath from every

land,
Thy spirit shall find rest !

Thou hast been long alone;
Come to thy mother ! on the Sabbath shore,
The heart that rocked thy childhood, back once

more
Shall take its wearied one.

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