Granny

SHOVEL of his ashes took
From the hearth's obscurest nook,
Muttering mysteries as she went.
Helen and Henry knew that

Was as much afraid of ghosts as any,
And so they followed hard -
But Helen clung to her brother's arm,
And her own spasm made her shake.

hue

I.

HE rose that drinks the fountain

dew

In the pleasant air of noon,

Grows pale and blue with altered

In the gaze of the nightly moon;

For the planet of frost, so cold and bright,
Makes it wan with her borrowed light.

II.

Such is my heart - roses are fair,

And that at best a withered blossom;

But thy false care did idly wear

Its withered leaves in a faithless bosom;

And fed with love, like air and dew,
Its growth -

Floats tho' unseen amongst us, — visiting

This various world with as inconstant wing As summer winds that creep from flower to

flower,

Like moonbeams that behind some piny moun

tain shower,

It visits with inconstant glance

Each human heart and countenance;

Like hues and harmonies of evening,

Like clouds in starlight widely spread, -
Like memory of music fled, -

Like aught that for its grace may be

Dear, and yet dearer for its mystery.

IL.

Spirit of BEAUTY, thou dost consecrate

With thine own hues all thou dost shi

upon

Of human thought or form, where art the gone?

Why dost thou pass away and leave o

state,

This dim vast vale of tears, vacant and des late?

Ask why the sunlight not for ever
Weaves rainbows o'er yon mountain rive

Why aught should fail and fade that once

shown,

Why fear and dream and death an

birth

Cast on the daylight of this earth

Such gloom, - why man has such a scop

For love and hate, despondency and hope?