The Biographical Sketches," and "Notes, on the Poets," while they were compiled for your ultimate improvement, were thought at the time too advanced for the capaci ties of all our household band, as their readings have been given to you at different. times. The pleasure of novelty is necessa rily precluded by a former acquaintance; but instead of this, you will find the tender interest of association, which to your minds will supersede that of talent and ability. Accept, my dear ones, in the repugnance which I have conquered to comply with your wishes, another evidence of my devoted love. YOUR MOTHER. A beautiful picture of the Crucifixion. hangs over the altar of St. Mary's, where from our earliest recollections we were used to assemble for divine worship. So dear had it become to us, that we often felt a longing when absent to gaze upon the sad and beautiful lineaments there represented. MY Jesus, I am sadly gazing, Upon that still, pale form of Thine; Nearer, still nearer, I approach Thee, This commune short, these moments brief. Here 'neath the shadow of Thy woes, I learn the ransom paid for man; Thine be the school, my heart to teachThine be the rule, each act to scan. And thou, sweet Mary, mother, mine, Oh! by the love thou did'st receive, A refuge in His bleeding heart. TWILIGHT MUSINGS. 'Tis the hour my spirit loves- Now I close my eyes to outward, Once again, those happy faces, Smiles and tender looks of love; Memory, thou hast holy power, Traversing the realms above. I lend me to the sweet delusion, And I listen, mother dear, For the prayers you taught my childhood Seem to float upon my ear. Sister! with the deep, dark eye, Thy soft notes at eventide Linger, oh! so fondly now. Mother, sister, absent brother, Parted by the deep, blue main, Shall we ever clasp each other? Shall we ever meet again? Though my present hath its gladness, Though my steps are watched by love, Still I languish for the hour When on memory's wings I rove. Then I hail the pensive twilight, And its mantling robes of gray, With the deeper shades of even, Other thoughts and feelings play. |