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Whither tends it? Has the shore

No alluring haunt for thee?
Nook, with tangled vines grown o'er,

Scented shrub, or leafy tree?

Is the purple sea-weed rarer

Than the violet of the spring ? Is the snowy foam-wreath fairer

Than the apple's blossoming ? Shady grove and sunny slope,

Seek but these, and thou shalt meet Birds not born with storm to cope,

Hermits of retirement sweet

Where no winds too rudely swell,

But in whispers, as they pass,
Of the fragrant flow'ret tell,

Hidden in the tender grass.
There the mock-bird sings of love;

There the robin builds his nest;
There the gentle-hearted dove,

Brooding, takes her blissful rest.

Sea-bird-stay thy rapid flight:

Gone !—Where dark waves foam and dasb, Like a lone star on the night,

Far I see his white wing flash. He obeyeth God's behest,

All their destiny fulfil :Tempests some are born to breast;

Some, to worship and be still.

If to struggle with the storm

On life's ever changing sea, Where cold mists enwrap the form,

My harsh must be Sea-bird ! thus may I abide

Cheerful the allotment given, And rising o'er the ruffled tide,

Escape at last, like thee, to Heaven.



Land of the south !-imperial land !

How proud thy mountains rise !
How sweet thy scenes on every hand!

How fair thy covering skies !
But not for this,-oh, not for these,

I love thy fields to roam,-
Thou hast a dearer spell to me,

Thou art my native home!

Thy rivers roll their liquid wealth,

Unequalled, to the sea, Thy hills and valleys bloom with health,

And green with verdure be!

Yet not for thy proud ocean-streams,

Not for thine azure dome,-
Sweet sunny south !-I cling to thee,-

Thou art my native home!

I've stood beneath Italia's clime,

Beloved of tale and song,
On Helvyn's hills, proud and sublime,

Where nature's wonders throng,
By Tempe's classic, sun-lit streams,

Where gods, of old, did roam,But ne'er have found so fair a land

As thou—my native home!

And thou hast prouder glories too,

Than nature ever gave, —
Peace sheds o'er thee her genial dew,

And freedom's pinions wave,
Fair science Alings her pearls around,

Religion lifts her dome :These, these endear thee to my heart,

My own loved native home!

And “heaven's best gift to man” is thine, –

God bless thy rosy girls ! Like sylvan flowers, they sweetly shine,

Their hearts are pure as pearls ! And grace and goodness circle them,

Where'er their footsteps roam,How can I then, whilst loving them,

Not love my native home?

Land of the south !-imperial land !

Then here's a health to thee!
Long as thy mountain barriers stand,

Mayst thou be blest and free!
May dark dissension's banner ne'er

Wave o'er thy fertile loam,-
But should it come, there's one will die

To save his native home!



My prayer for thee, dearest, is not that thy way
May be sunny and bright as a calm summer day,
That no shadows may darken thy morning's blue sky,
No grief cloud thy spirit, no tear-drop thine eye ;-
That the pleasures of earth, with her gayest of flowers,
May be strewed at thy footsteps to gladden life's hours,
And thy days, without sorrow or trial, may seem
Like the cherished remembrance of some hallowed


It vere vain. We may slumber in hope's chain secure,
Bu, her fabric is transient, and may not endure;
The visions most worshipped in morning's pure light,
We are destined to weep o'er in silence at night.

And yet, when I bend to that Being on high,
Whose throne is the Heaven-who illumines the sky,
Thou still art remembered, beloved, and there
Thy name ever breathed in the stillness of prayer :-

That thy soul may be turned from the vain things of

earth, Thy young heart be changed by a holier birth, That his spirit within its recesses may come, And meet in thy spirit a calm, perfect home. And when thy glad eye shall wax languid and dim, May thy thoughts turn to heaven, thy spirit to him; And when death's bitter draught thou art destined to

sip, May his peace be around thee, his name on thy lip.



The first love! The first love!
There's nothing like the first love-

Other throes

The bosom knows,
But nothing like the first love.

The heart may smile
In bliss awhile

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