MY COUNTRY, I LOVE THEE. Sometimes I dream a happy dream- Beside our own old village church, And I can sit upon her grave, Nay, mother-mother-weep not so, And from a world of pain and woe Why should we wish her back again? Let us the rather pray God's love, BENNETT, 13. MY COUNTRY, I LOVE THEE. Он, England! thy white cliffs are dearer to me Than all the famed coast of a far foreign sea; What emerald can peer, or what sapphire can vie With the grass of thy fields or thy summer-day sky? They tell me of regions where flowers are found, Whose perfume and tints spread a paradise round; But brighter to me cannot garland the earth Than those that spring forth in the land of my birth. My country, I love thee: though freely I'd rove Through the western savannah, or sweet orange grove; Yet warmly my bosom would welcome the gale That bore me away with a homeward-bound sail. My country, I love thee !-and oh, may'st thou have The last throb of my heart, ere 'tis cold in the grave; May'st thou yield me that grave in thine own daisied earth, And my ashes repose in the land of my birth! ELIZA COOK. 17 18 THE FIRST SNOW-FALL. 14. THE FIRST SNOW-FALL. THE snow had begun in the gloaming, Had been heaping field and highway Every pine and fir and hemlock From sheds, new roofed with Carrara, The stiff rails were softened to swans'-down: I stood and watched by the window I thought of a mound in sweet Auburn How the flakes were folding it gently, Up spoke our own little Mabel, Saying, "Father, who makes it snow ?" Who cares for us all below. Again I looked at the snow-fall, And thought of the leaden sky, PLEASANT THINGS. I remembered the gradual patience And again to the child I whispered, Then, with J. R. LOWELL 15. PLEASANT THINGS. "TIS sweet to hear At midnight on the blue and moonlit deep The song and oar of Adria's gondolier, By distance mellowed, o'er the waters sweep; "Tis sweet to see the evening star appear; 'Tis sweet to listen as the night-winds creep From leaf to leaf; 'tis sweet to view on high The rainbow, based on ocean, span the sky. 'Tis sweet to hear the watch-dog's honest bark Or lull'd by falling waters; sweet the hum ㄢˋ BYRON. 19 20 HOHENLINDEN. 16. HOHENLINDEN. ON Linden, when the sun was low, But Linden saw another sight, By torch and trumpet fast array'd, Then shook the hills with thunder riven,, But redder yet that light shall glow 'Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun ABOU BEN ADHEM AND THE ANGEL. Few, few, shall part where many meet! Shall be a soldier's sepulchre ! CAMPBELL. 21 17. ABOU BEN ADHEM AND THE ANGEL. ABOU BEN ADHEM (may his tribe increase) "What writest thou?"-The vision raised its head, And with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered "The names of those who love the Lord." The angel wrote, and vanish'd. The next night LEIGH HUNT. |