Imatges de pàgina
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BIRDS OF PASSAGE.

ANONYMOUS.

Or song so sweet and flight so free,
Gayest of birds, I wot are we;

Nor cold, nor frost, nor snow we know,

Nor wintry blasts e'er on us blow.

For joyous birds of passage are we,

And summer is with us where'er we be.

We ever sport in purest skies,

And bright things ever greet our eyes;

We take no scorn of rich or poor,

In every land of welcome sure.

For joyous birds of passage are we,
And summer is with us where'er we be.

On earth, on ocean, and on shore,
Fresh beauties rise as we pass o'er;
The lowly lake, and mountain high,
Still brighten as we onward fly.

For joyous birds of passage are we,
And summer is with us where'er we be.

We mourn not brood behind us left,
Nor fear to be of freedom reft;
No dread of ill gives us annoy,

Oh! none would harm such things of joy.
For joyous birds of passage are we,

And summer is with us where'er we be.

When death's soft hand doth on us fall,
(For death will touch the hearts of all,)
On perfumed banks we fall asleep,
While over us sweet flowerets weep.

For joyous birds of passage are we,
And summer is with us where'er we be.

6*

THE VOYAGE OF LIFE.

BY G. P. R. JAMES.

I WISH I could as merry be,

As when I set out this world to see,
Like a boat filled with good companie,

On some gay voyage sent.

There youth spread forth the broad white sail,
Sure of fair weather and full gale,

Confiding life would never fail,
Nor time be ever spent.

And Fancy whistled for the wind,
And if e'er Memory looked behind,
'T was but some friendly sight to find,
And gladsome wave her hand.

And Hope kept whispering in Youth's ear,

To spread more sail and never fear,

For the same sky would still be clear,

Until they reached the land.

Health, too, and Strength tugged at the oar, Mirth mocked the passing billow's roar, And Joy with goblet running o'er,

Drank draughts of deep delight;

And Judgment was a child as yet,
And, lack-a-day! was all unfit

To guide the boat aright:—

Bubbles did half her thoughts employ,

Hope, she believed - she played with Joy,
And Fancy bribed her with a toy,
To steer which way he chose -
But still they were a merry crew,
And laughed at dangers as untrue,
Till the dim sky tempestuous grew,
And sobbing south winds rose.

Then Prudence told them all she feared; And Youth awhile his messmates cheered, Until at length he disappeared,

Though none knew how he went. Joy hung her head, and Mirth grew dull, Health faltered, Strength refused to pull; And Memory, with her soft eyes full, Backward her glance still bent

To where, upon the distant sea,
Bursting the storm's dark canopy,
Light from a sun none more could see
Still touched the whirling wave.

And though Hope, gazing from the bow,

Turns oft she sees the shore- to vow,

-

Judgment grown older, now I trow,
Is silent, stern, and grave.

And though she steers with better skill,
And makes her fellows do her will,

Fear says the storm is rising still,

And day is almost spent.

O! that I could as merry be,

As when I set out this world to see,
Like a boat filled with good companie,
On some gay'voyage sent.

A FAREWELL.

BY ISMAEL FITZADAM.

FARE thee well, land of my birth,
That spot the most sacred on earth!
At last I have broken the spell

That bound my heart to thee,- farewell!

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With a love that scarce death could remove,
Have I clung to thee, land of my love!
Yet found but such fostering and rest
As the babe at its dead mother's breast.

Lift the sail. The lone spirit that braves
The loud going forth of the waves
Wherever they cast him, will find
A country, and bosoms, more kind.

Lift the sail-all remembrances sleep
In the rush and the roar of the deep,
As its tide blots the lines which the hand
Of childhood had etched on the sand.

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