Now I cleave to the house, and am dull as a snail; And, oftentimes, hear the church-bell with a sigh, That follows the thought — We've no land in the vale, Save six feet of earth where our forefathers lie!

THE AFFLICTION OF MARGARET.

WHERE art thou, my beloved Son,
Where art thou, worse to me than dead?
Oh find me, prosperous or undone !
Or, if the grave be now thy bed,
Why am I ignorant of the same
That I may rest; and neither blame
Nor sorrow may attend thy name?

Seven years, alas! to have received
No tidings of an only child;
To have despaired, and have believed,
And be for evermore beguiled;
Sometimes with thoughts of very bliss !
I catch at them, and then I miss;
Was ever darkness like to this?

He was among the prime in worth,
An object beauteous to behold;
Well born, well bred; I sent him forth
Ingenuous, innocent, and bold:
If things ensued that wanted grace,
As hath been said, they were not base;
And never blush was on my face.

Ah! little doth the Young-one dream,
When full of play and childish cares,
What power is in his wildest scream,
Heard by his Mother unawares !
He knows it not, he cannot guess:
Years to a Mother bring distress;
But do not make her love the less.

Neglect me! no, I suffered long
From that ill thought; and, being blind,
Said, “Pride shall help me in my wrong
Kind mother have I been, as kind
As ever breathed:” and that is true;
I've wet my path with tears like dew,
Weeping for him when no one knew.

My Son, if thou be humbled, poor,
Hopeless of honour and of gain,
Oh! do not dread thy mother's door ;
Think not of me with grief and pain:
I now can see with better eyes;
And worldly grandeur I despise,
And fortune with her gifts and lies.

Beyond participation lie
My troubles, and ond relief:
If any chance to heave a sigh,
They pity me, and not my grief.
Then come to me, my Son, or send
Some tidings that my woes may end;
I have no other earthly friend!

for me.

"The Bird and Cage they both were his:
'Twas my Son's Bird; and neat and trim
He kept it: many voyages
This Singing-bird had gone with him:

When last he sailed, he left the Bird behind ; From bodings, as might be, that hung upon his mind.

“He to a Fellow-lodger's care
Had left it, to be watched and fed,
And pipe its song in safety ; – there
I found it when my Son was dead;

And now, God help me for my little wit!
I bear it with me, Sir

, he took so much delight in it."

THE COTTAGER TO HER INFANT.

BY MY SISTER.

The days are cold, the nights are long,
The north-wind sings a doleful song;
Then hush again upon my breast;
All merry things are now at rest,

Save thee, my pretty Love!

The kitten sleeps upon the hearth,
The crickets long have ceased their mirth;
There's nothing stirring in the house
Save one wee, hungry, nibbling mouse,

Then why so busy thou?

THE CHILDLESS FATHER. “Up, Timothy, up with your Staff and away! Not a soul in the village this morning will stay; The Hare has just started from Hamilton's grounds, And Skiddaw i

th the cry of the hounds."

Within the vortex of a foaming flood,
Tormented ? by such aid you may conceive
The perturbation of each mind :— ah, no!
Desperate the Maid the Youth is stained with blood;
But as the troubled seed and tortured bough
Is Man, subjected to despotic sway.

I pass the raptures of the Pair; - such theme ls, by innumerable poets, touched In more delightful verse than skill of mine Could fashion, chiefly by that darling bard Who told of Juliet and her Romeo, And of the lark's note heard before its time, And of the streaks that laced the severing clouds In the unrelenting east. — Through all her courts The vacant city slept; the busy winds, That keep no certain intervals of rest, Mored not; meanwhile the galaxy displayed Her fires, that like mysterious pulses beat Aloft; — momentous but uneasy bliss ! To their full hearts the universe seemed hung On that brief meeting's slender filament!

For him, by private influence with the Court Was pardon gained, and liberty procured; But not without exaction of a pledge, Which liberty and love dispersed in air. He flew to her from whom they would divide him – He clove to her who could not give him peace Yea, his first word of greeting was, —“All right Is gone from me; my lately-towering hopes, To the least fibre of their lowest root, Are withered; - thou no longer canst be mine, I thine — the Conscience-stricken must not woo The unruffled Innocent, - I see thy face, Behold thee, and my misery is complete !"

They parted; and the generous Vandracour Reached speedily the native threshold, bent On making (so the Lovers had agreed) A sacrifice of birthright to attain A final portion from his Father's hand; Which granted, Bride and Bridegroom then would flee To some remote and solitary place, Shady as night, and beautiful as heaven, Where they may live, with no one to behold Their happiness, or to disturb their love. But now of this no whisper; not the less, If ever an obtrusive word were dropped Touching the matter of his passion, still, In his stern Father's hearing, Vaudracour Persisted openly that death alone Should abrogate his human privilege Divine, of swearing everlasting truth, Cpon the altar, to the Maid he loved.

“One, are we not ?" exclaimed the Maiden ---"Onn For innocence and youth, for weal and woe?" Then with the Father's name she coupled words Of vehement indignation; but the Youth Checked her with filial meekness; for no thought Uncharitable, no presumptuous rising Of hasty censure, modelled in the eclipse Of true domestic loyalty, did e'er Find place within his bosom. - Once again The persevering wedge of tyranny Achieved their separation ; — and once more Were they united, — to be yet again Disparted— pitiable lot! But here A portion of the Tale may well be left In silence, though my memory could add Much how the Youth, in scanty space of time, Was traversed from without; much, too, of thoughts That occupied his days in solitude Under privation and restraint; and what, Through dark and shapeless fear of things to come, And what, through strong compunction for the past, He suffered — breaking down in heart and mind !

" You shall be baffled in your mad intent If there be justice in the Court of France," Sluttered the Father. – From these words the Youth Conceived a terror, — and, by night or day, Stirred nowhere without weapons — that full soon Found dreadful provocation : for at night When to his chamber he retired, attempt Was made to seize him by three armed men, Acting, in furtherance of the Father's will, Inder a private signet of the State. One, did the Youth's ungovernable hand Assault and slay; — and to a second, gave A perilous wound, - he shuddered to behold The breathless corse; then peacefully resigned His person to the law, was lodged in prison, And wore the fetters of a criminal.

Hare

you

beheld a tuft of winged seed That, from the dandelion's naked stalk, Mounted aloft, is suffered not to use Its natural gifts for purposes of rest, Driven by the autumnal whirlwind to and fro Through the wide element? or have you marked The heavier substance of a leaf-clad bough,

Doomed to a third and last captivity, His freedom he recovered on the eve Of Julia's travail. When the babe was born, Its presence tempted him to cherish schemes Of future happiness. “You shall return, Julia," said he, "and to your Father's house Go with the Child. — You have been wretched, yet The silver shower, whose reckless burthen weighs Too heavily upon the lily's head, Oft leaves a saving moisture at its root. Malice, beholding you, will melt away. Go!- 't is a Town where both of us were born; None will reproach you, for our truth is known;