THE WIDOW AND THE FATHERLESS. WELL, thou art gone, and I am left: But oh! how cold and dark to me This world, of every charm bereft, Though I have seen thy form depart I hold thee in mine inmost heart; There, there at least, thou canst not die. Farewell on earth; Heaven claim'd its own; Yet, when from me thy presence went, I was exchanged for God alone : Let dust and ashes learn content. K Ha! those small voices silver-sweet! THE DAISY IN INDIA. Supposed to be addressed by the Reverend Dr. CAREY, the learned and illustrious Baptist Missionary at Serampore, to the first plant of this kind, which sprang up unexpectedly in his garden, out of some English earth, in which other seeds had been conveyed to him from this country. With great care and nursing, the Doctor has been enabled to perpetuate the Daisy in India, as an annual only, raised by seed preserved from season to season. THRICE welcome, little English flower! In rose or lily, till this hour, Never to me such beauty spread: A treasure in a grain of earth, Thine embryo sprang to birth. Thrice welcome, little English flower! Whose tribes, beneath our natal skies, With unabash'd but modest eyes, Follow his motion to the west, Nor cease to gaze till daylight dies, Then fold themselves to rest. Thrice welcome, little English flower, To this resplendent hemisphere, Where Flora's giant offspring tower In gorgeous liveries all the year; Thou, only thou, art little here, Like worth unfriended and unknown, Yet to my British heart more dear Than all the torrid zone. Thrice welcome, little English flower! Of early scenes beloved by me, |