"Then I vowed to visit the earth, and give As the snow-flake spake; the flowers, that lay Bloomed with the blush of a new-born day, Then the angel said, "If thou'lt stay with me, "Sweet pitying spirit of air, "A beauteous form I'll give to thee, Waving her hand, there rose to view, In the place where the snow-flake came, A pure white flower, fresh crowned with dew; And the SNOW-DROP is its name. THE CAPTIVE CHIEF. BY WILLIAM PITT PALMER. PALE was the hue of his faded cheek, For he thought of the days when his restless foot He had stood in the deadly ambuscade, While his warriors were falling around him; He had stood unmoved at the torturing stake, Where the foe in his wrath had bound him; He had mocked at pain in every form Had joyed in the post of danger; But his spirit was crushed by the dungeon's gloom, And the chain of the ruthless stranger. A ROUND. BY J. K. PAULDING. MARRIAGE is like a flaming candle-light To come and singe their pretty ringlets there- SLEEP ON. BY JOHN 0. SARGENT. SLEEP on-sleep happily on, Dream on-but dream of me! As all my dreams of dear delight, HER LOVER DIED. BY. J. G. WHITTIER. HER lover died. Away from her, And it was told her how he strove With death; but not from selfish fear: 'Twas the memory of her love Which made existence doubly dear. They told her how his fevered sleep Revealed the phantom of his brain- And weep that there was nothing there. And when he bowed himself at last Her name was on his marble lips. Rememberings of after years. She poured one lone and plaintive wail As if her darkened soul had done With all beneath the fair sunshine. SLEEP, CHILD OF MY LOVE. BY J. W. EASTBURNE. SLEEP, child of my love! be thy slumber as light As the dew-drops that sparkle around with the ray. O, soft flows the breath from thine innocent breast; In the wild wood, Sleep cradles in roses thy head; Out her who protects thee, a wanderer unblessed, He forsakes, or surrounds with his phantoms of dread. I fear for thy father! why stays he so long On the shores where the wife of the giant was thrown, And the sailor oft lingered to hearken her song, So sad o'er the wave, e'er she hardened to stone. He skims the blue tide in his birchen canoe, The Power that is round us-whose presence is near, In the gloom and the solitude felt by the soul— Protect that lone bark in its lonely career, And shield thee, when roughly life's billows shall roll! |