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TO THE MORNING STAR.

FAIREST and proudest gem

Placed in Night's diadem,

Morn's happy usher! I hail thee with joy :
Hail to thy presence bright,

Over yon distant height

Queenly resuming thy place in the Sky?

The dawn-loving lark now

Is stirring and hark now

The joyful ado at thy coming she makes !
While, glad at thy shewing

The darkness soon going,

The love-making black-cock his harem awakes.

The elfin knights prancing,

The elfin maids dancing,

The witch at her cantrips, thou fill'st with dismay; Ghosts from thy presence fly,

Owlets no longer cry,—

Wand'rer benighted, now smile on thy way!

Star of the golden gleam!

Where dost thou hide thy beam

When the young Morn her bright eyelids unclose? Thou which like God's own eye

Look'd where I see the sky

Now bashful-blushing-one wide spreading rose !

Now in the twilight grey

Vanish thy sisters gay,

Gone is the light of thy own brighter eye;
Yet shall I hail thy smile,

Over yon mountain pile,

Queenly resuming thy place in the Sky!

A DREAMLAND DELIGHT.

YOUNG Jeanie expects me to let her know all
That to me yestreen did in dreamland befall,
And now I right gladly respond to her call.

Alone on my couch in the deep midnight still,
When sleep had left fancy to wander at will,
I dreamed a dream of the rarest bliss-

A vision such as I would not miss

For all that has ever yet been my share
Of joy in this waking world of care.

Seemed I throned mid the gods in Olympian light?
Seemed I feasting with kings in some palace bright
Where of all the gay courtiers gathered there,
I of royalty's smiles had the amplest share?
With the sceptre of power in my potent hand,
Did myself seem the chief of some far-famed Land?
Did I deem I was own'd in the World's glad sight
A Hero unmatch'd in fair Freedom's fight?
Or a Sage taught to bless and enrich mankind
With the wisdom and lore of a godlike mind?

In the Temple of Fame was it mine to be,
The chief of the sons of bright Poesy?
Did I seem in possession of stores untold.
Of the brightest gems-of the purest gold?
Did some daughter of Beauty with hand of snow
Wake the harp to fond strains I loved long ago ?
Was I charmed by the tones of some seraph Choir ?
Seem'd I list'ning the Angel of love's own lyre,
As around him were joined, in the Land of Bliss,
The Fond-hearted whose loves had been cross'd in this?
In my Highland Home did I seem to stray?

Was my step with the Morn on the mountain grey
When its peak with the sun is in glory crown'd
And the rocks to the cries of the Chase resound?
Seem'd my bark o'er the breast of the blue Lochfyne
Bounding fearless and fleet, as in days longsyne,
When a swelling sail and a heaving sea
Were a joy to my little bark and me ?

These be fancies, I own, that might well delight,
Yet had nothing to do with this Vision bright.

Can you guess then, sweet girl, what could fairly be
The cause of a joy so supreme to me—

A joy far surpassing all others won

By me since my life on this earth began?

You cannot, and so, although only to you,
I'll tell you my dream without further ado.

I dreamt I was sitting at gloaming's hour,
Inside of some cool, cosy garden bower;

A maiden of beauty supremely bright
Sat near me-her eyes full of love's own light.

Nor long there we seemed when her grace made me bold
To tell how I loved her ;-my arms, while I told,
Found their way, unreproved, round her lithesome waist—
Her fair face, meanwhile, fondly laid on my breast ;—
And just as she owned her young heart all my own,
And just as I showered loving kisses upon

The chaste, rose-red lips of that darling one,
I awoke. Jeanie dear, if that joy of joys
It ever may mine be to realize,

You only can say, since the beautiful elf

Of that vision of mine was-your own sweet self!

LINES

WRITTEN ON THE BANKS OF THE DEE, NEAR CHESTER.

SHAKE off, my soul, each earth-born care!

A glimpse of paradise is here!

Scene like this to see,

Wakes a doubt in me

How a curse can be on a world so fair!

Here the blackbird sings like some spirit blest!
There the skylark springs from her secret nest,
And in heaven away

Pours so sweet a lay

As might envy wake in a seraph's breast.

Let those who list far distant go
To gaze on scenes of sterner shew;
Enough for me

Is the joy to be

Where the winding Dee delights to flow.

Ye bards, let fancy wander free;

Think what earth's fairest spot should be;
Then hither stray

In flowery May

And view the gay reality!

24th May, 1841.

"THE DINGLE."

A SCENE ON THE BANKS OF THE MERSEY, ENGLAND.

I'VE been mid scenes where horn and hound

Make hills and valleys ring all,

But ne'er in such a fairy bound

As thine, delightful Dingle!

Her sweetest bloom the "stars of earth;'

Here the wood minstrels mingle
Notes such as only could have birth

In Eden-or the Dingle.

Here, ever verdant shrub and spray
The richest odours fling all

On Zephyr's wings, while on his way
Flow'r-kissing in the Dingle.

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