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“He would not hear my voice, fair child,
He may not come to thee; The face that once like spring-time smiled On earth no more thou'lt see.
"A rose's brief bright life of joy,
Such unto him was given ;
Thy brother is in heaven !”
“And has he left the birds and flowers ?
And must I call in vain ? And through the long, long summer hours,
Will he not come again ?
“And by the brook, and in the glade,
Are all our wanderings o'er ? (), while my brother with me played, Would I had loved him more !"
THE BETTER LAND.
“I hear thee speak of the better land :
“Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise,
“Not there—not there, my child !”
“ Is it far away, in some region old,
“Not there, not there, my child !
“ Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy! Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy : Dreams cannot picture a world so fair : Sorrow and death may not enter there; Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom : For beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb, - It is there-it is there, my child !”
FAREWELL TO THE WOODLANDS.
Farewell to the woodlands, farewell to the
bowers, Farewell to the home of our happiest hours, To pleasant companions, to mirth and to song, And the kind-hearted friends we have cherished
so long : Our cares and our duties forbid us to stay, But our thoughts shall be with you wherever we
stray; And we'll long for the summer to smile on the
plain, To bid us return to the woodlands again.
And joyous to us shall the memories be
If care should perplex us, if sorrow should
frown, Or weariness follow the moil of the town, We'll think of the days when our faces were
bright, With the rambles of morn, and the songs of the
night; And cherish the hope, amid winter and rain, That we'll come back with summer to see you again.
THE MILLER OF THE DEE.
There dwelt a miller hale and bold,
Beside the river Dee;
No lark more blithe than he ;
· For ever used to be,-
And nobody envies me!”
“ Thou’rt wrong, my friend !” said old
I'd gladly change with thee.
And tell me now what makes thee sing
With voice so loud and free,
Beside the river Dee?”.
The miller smiled and doff'd his cap:
“I earn my bread,” quoth he;
I love my children three;
I thank the river Dee,
To feed my babes and me.”
“Good friend,” said Hal, and sigh'd the
That no one envies thee.
Thy mill my kingdom's fee!