'Tis past, 't is past! but I gaze on it now,
With quivering breath and throbbing brow:
'Twas there she nursed me, 'twas there she died,
And memory flows with lava tide.
Say it is folly, and deem me weak,
Whilst scalding drops start down my cheek;
But I love it, I love it, and cannot tear
My soul from a mother's old arm-chair.

ROSES UNDERNEATH THE SNOW

BY GEORGE COOPER

Summer groves may lose their gladness,

Wintry winds may wander by;
Cares may come and weary sadness,

Must we then forever sigh?
Brave the storm with firm endeavor,

Let your vain repinings go!
Hopeful hearts will find forever

Roses underneath the snow.

One by one the links that bind us

May be severed here on earth;
But the sun will surely find us,

Through the winter's gloomy dearth!
Cheerful hearts around us beating,

Wearing ever summer's glow,
Ah! we know you're always meeting

Roses underneath the snow.

Never joy that earth can send us,
Can forever leave us here;

Every flower that spring can lend us

Blooms again another year.
Cares may come, but never mind them;

Joys may come and joys may go;
Look around and you will find them,

Roses underneath the snow.

Brave the storm with firm endeavor,

Let your vain repining go;
Hopeful hearts will find forever

Roses underneath the snow.

VERSES

SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN BY ALEXANDER SELKIRK

DURING HIS SOLITARY ABODE IN THE ISLAND OF

JUAN FERNANDEZ.

BY WILLIAM COWPER

I am monarch of all I

survey;
My right there is none to dispute;
From the centre all round to the sea

I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
O Solitude! where are the charms

That sages have seen in thy face?
Better dwell in the midst of alarms

Than reign in this horrible place.

I am out of humanity's reach;

I must finish my journey alone;
Never hear the sweet music of speech
I start at the sound of my own.

The beasts that roam over the plain,

My form with indifference see; They are so unacquainted with man,

Their tameness is shocking to me.

Society, Friendship, and Love,

Divinely bestow'd upon man, Oh, had I the wings of a dove,

How soon would I taste you again! My sorrows I then might assuage

In the ways of religion and truth, Might learn from the wisdom of age,

And be cheer'd by the sallies of youth.

Religion! what treasure untold

Resides in that heavenly word!
More precious than silver and gold,

Or all that this earth can afford.
But the sound of the church-going bell

These valleys and rocks never heard; Never sigh'd at the sound of a knell,

Or smiled when a Sabbath appear'd.

Ye winds that have made me your sport,

Convey to this desolate shore Some cordial endearing report

Of a land I shall visit no more:
My friends, do they now and then send

A wish or a thought after me?
Oh, tell me I yet have a friend,
Though a friend I am never to see.

How fleet is a glance of the mind!

Compared with the speed of its flight,
The tempest itself lags behind,

And the swift-winged arrows of light.
When I think of my own native land,

In a moment I seem to be there;
But, alas! recollection at hand

Soon hurries me back to despair.

But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest,

The beast is laid down in his lair;
Even here is a season of rest,

And I to my cabin repair.
There's mercy in every place,

And mercy - encouraging thought! -
Gives even affliction a grace,

And reconciles man to his lot.

THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN

SHOWING HOW HE WENT FARTHER THAN HE INTENDED

AND CAME SAFE HOME AGAIN.

BY WILLIAM COWPER

John Gilpin was a citizen

Of credit and renown;
A trainband captain eke was he

Of famous London town.

John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear -
5. Tho' wedded we have been

These twice ten tedious years, yet we

No holiday have seen.

" To-morrow is our wedding-day,

And we will then repair Unto the Bell at Edmonton

All in a chaise and pair.

“My sister and my sister's child,

Myself and children three, Will fill the chaise; so you must ride

On horseback after we.”

He soon replied, “I do admire

Of womankind but one,
And you are she, my dearest dear:

Therefore it shall be done.

“I am a linendraper bold,

As all the world doth know;
And my good friend, the calender,

Will lend his horse to go.”

Quoth Mrs. Gilpin, “That's well said;

And, for that wine is dear,
We will be furnish'd with our own,

Which is both bright and clear."

John Gilpin kiss'd his loving wife;

O’erjoyed was he to find That, though on pleasure she was bent, She had a frugal mind.