THE DARK THOUGHT.

My health gave way, and then
I meditated death!

In frenzy have I rais'd my hand,
To stop the vital breath!

A star above my head,

A flower of the sod, Arrested me in time,

And spake to me of God!

"Pause thou," they seem'd to say,
With low and tender voice :
"Join thou our hymn of praise,
And in our joys rejoice!"

And then repentance came;
Soon afterwards, content:
A prayer rose to my tongue,
Disjointed, eloquent,

Truth found out the words
Needful for my plight ;
And led my erring soul

From darkness unto light.

Oh how I bless'd the stars,
The flowers of the sod;
Creation took my hand,
And led me to its God.

Since then, I've tasted peace,
Hopeful, happy calm;
For I have been upheld

By an Almighty arm.

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BRANCHES BARE.

And now I raise my voice
In thankful joy at last :
Hope gilding all the future-
Time soft'ning all the past.

To those who have known grief
I dedicate this song:

Love ye the stars and flowers-
They'll never lead you wrong.

BRANCHES BARE.

Fading, falling leaves of autumn,
Types of living things of earth;
Solemn is your voiceless warning-
We have known ye from your birth.

Many a happy child in spring time
Watch'd your countless leaves expand;
Blissful lovers oft have wander'd
'Neath your shadows, hand in hand.

Many a toilworn, homeless wanderer,
Hath found shelter 'neath your shade;
Many a dream of youthful rapture,
Born of earth, like ye to fade !

Aged ones have mourn'd beneath

Over many a vain regret ;

In the heart of early passion,

you,

When love and anguish mingling met.

High hopes and aims have often blossom'd,
Like ye, have scatter'd been thro' space;
Like ye, have bloom'd a summer season
In wild, in rich luxuriant grace,

Like ye, have died bereft of glory:

Ye are but dimm'd by Time's decay;
But human deeds have seeds of sorrow

To bring forth fruit some future day.

Dead leaves! ye strew the grassy sward;
The boughs still throng the encircling air :
As perfect may we be to heaven

As ye to us, O, branches bare!

MARCH.

Away, away, O, clouds of leaden gray!

Away, harsh winds and cutting sleets, away!
We've borne thy storms, O, winter! felt thy lash,
Thy fury, and thy might, crash after crash!
Hast thou no mercy in thy cold, stern heart,

That thus thou tramplest on a child new born
With thy relentless feet? Depart! depart!

With light, with blushes we would hail the morn, Behold again spring's garment, wrought in green, With tender springing plants of blue and gold. Away, dread King! hail thou earth's gentle Queen, For thou art hoary, and thy soul is cold:

A glory will await upon thy death.

Now all creation needs a warmer breath.

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THE WINGED MESSENGER.

WINTER'S DEATH.

A sullen roar, a mighty groan went forth,
And rocks, and hills, and valleys caught the sound :
It shook the very ground-work of the earth—

The death-pang of old Winter was profound!
Wild flew his ghost-'twas lost amongst the crags,
Whose rugged sides were lash'd by furious seas.
The lambs come forth, the young deer and the stags;
All vegetation feels the genial breeze;
Quick grows the grass-the thankful cattle graze ;
Proudly the trees flaunt their towering crests,
And woo the happy birds to make their nests.
The fairy butterfly in sunshine plays,

Kissing the blossoms of our promis'd fruit;
The bee is far too blissful to be mute :

Bright Spring, in love with nature, fondly flings
Unnumber'd blessings from her starry wings.

THE WINGED MESSENGER.

O'er the bed of death,

In a sombre room,

There comes a fragrant breath—

The breath of flowers in bloom.

Borne on gentle wings—

The perfum'd wings of air :
It a loving message brings,

To one now dying there.

SHADOWS.

Tenderly it breathes

Glad tidings in his ear,

That take the sting from death,
And make his pathway clear.

Listening to each truth,

His upturn'd eyes grow bright;
Renew'd again his youth,
Crown'd with unearthly light.

Peacefully he yields

His God's Almighty breath;
Afar he sees bright fields—
He now can smile on death!

Truth's eternal springs

prayer;

Burst forth in song and
They hang upon the wings-

The unseen wings of air!

Messenger do this:

Receive his soul with care;
Oh! lead it into bliss

Perpetual, O, air!

SHADOWS.

Shimmering shadows, quiv'ring on the ground,
So full of life, and yet devoid of sound;
On grassy blades imprinted by the light-
Thy light, O, Sun, unutterably bright!

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