These are the wishes that our hearts inspire;
More would we ask could Mary more require.
Years may you live to see this day again,
Thus bless'd with ev'ry good-exempt from pain-
Possess'd, indeed, with all of needful wealth,
In peace, content of mind, and perfect health.
Parcius junctas quatiunt fenestras
Ictibus crebris juvenes protervi,
Nec tibi somnos adimunt: amatque
Janua limen.-HOR.
What do we all forget our vow?
Are we no longer kind?
Do all forsake thee, maiden, now,
And leave regret behind?
Dost thou no longer hear the strain
Are all those soft complaints in vain
Of such inhuman wrongs?"
But, oh! if we are growing cold,
Seek'st thou the reason why?
I ween that thou art growing old,
My gentle Emily.
Oh! Music sphere-descended maid,
Friend of pleasure, Wisdom's aid.-COLLINS.
Oh! it is passing sweet to hear,
Harmonious numbers rise,
And listen with a ravish'd ear
To dulcet melodies.
When the great arbiter of day
Shines forth in radiance bright,
Or when it sheds its parting ray,
And yields to calmer night:
Or when the moon pours forth on high
Its pale but silv'ry beam,
When glitt'ring stars that stud the sky
In countless myriads gleam:-
In any place, in ev'ry mood,
Thou hast a charm for me;
In crowds, or when in solitude,
Music, I doat on thee.
When sorrows cease to vex my heart,
And joy elates my breast,
Thou dost that happiness impart
Which makes me doubly blest.
And when the tear bedews my cheek,
When mirth gives way to grief,
When ease I elsewhere vainly seek,
And anguish spurns relief—
Then, even then, a lively glee
Will instant make me glad ;
For who a moment lists to thee,
And finds his bosom sad?
When quickly throbs mine aching head
With agonizing pain,
I stretch my faint limbs on the bed,
And lay me down in vain :
But fruitlessly I strive to close,
In sleep, my burning eyes;
Thou, only thou, canst bring repose,
With softest lullabies.
I love thee in the crowded ball,
When all is bright and gay,
Where beauty fills the festive hall,
And fashion leads the way.
I love thee, too, in ladies' bow'r,
With rose and jasmine sweet:
For e'en to love thou add'st a pow'r,
To make its joys complete.
I love thee when the sacred choir
Their tuneful voices raise,
And pray to their Immortal Sire
In holy songs of praise.
Then, Music, hail! I worship thee-
Without thee what is life?
'Tis but a grievous load to me
Of misery and strife.
I lov'd-but those I lov'd are gone :
Had friends-my early friends are fled :
How cheerless feels this heart alone,
When all its former hopes are dead.
Reclining on a verdant mound,
I saw him in the burial ground-
Beside the plain and simple tomb
Of her who died in beauty's bloom;
I bade him wipe his tearful eye,
And think no more of misery.
He sigh'd, and with a voice of wail,
Disclos'd his melancholy tale.
"Oh! tell me not, I weep in vain,
Alas! I ne'er shall smile again;
Nor bid me think not on the past,
And say that sorrow will not last;
Or that the tears, which ceaseless flow,
Will never serve to heal my woe;
For, oh! I ne'er shall find relief
To calm this agony of grief;
As all in which my heart delighted,
My hopes, my prospects, all are blighted,
Since ev'ry friend that God has giv'n
Has wing'd a trackless course to heav'n.
"When first my heart began to know
The weight of misery and woe,
I then was but an infant boy,
My father's hope, my mother's joy;
For often, with my childish play,
I lur'd their weary hours away,
Whilst words of fondness they would speak, And print a kiss on either cheek.
"For many a day I did not see
The mother who had nurtur'd me:
She never made, I knew not why,
Her visits to the nursery;
She never came to bid me spell,
With lisping tongue, each syllable,
Nor made me bend my infant knee
For heav'n to guide and foster me;
Or that the God who reigns above
Might kindly bless the friends I love.
"I saw that ev'ry face was sad,
And could not tell why none were glad.
I saw them, too, in silent gloom,
Pass to and from my mother's room ;
I mark'd they gently whisper'd, lest
They should disturb her broken rest.
The menials all were loth to tell
The dreadful truth they knew too well;
And when I ask'd them to reply,
Their only answer was—a sigh.
"This anguish I could bear no more,
And boldly op'd her chamber door-
And saw her stretch'd upon her bed,
Chill, silent, motionless, and dead:
My father stood, in sorrow, by,
And groan'd with heart-felt agony:
He told me that she only slept-
But still I sat me down and wept.
"At length, as years pass'd slowly by, She faded from my memory:
Yet still my father's heart was sad,
Nor time, nor change, could make it glad ;
He seem'd a prey to silent grief,
And wish'd not e'en to find relief;
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