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And nature is all bright;
And the faint gray and crimson of the dawn,
Like folded curtains from the day are drawn ;

And evening's dewy light
Quivers in tremulous softness on the sky-
Alas, dear mother for thy clouded eye !

And the kind looks of friends
Peruse the sad expression in thy face,
And the child stops amid his bounding race,

And the tall stripling bends
Low to thine ear with duty unforgot-
Alas, dear mother, that thou see'st them not !

But thou canst hear-and love May richly on a human tongue be poured, And the slight cadence of a whispered word

A daughter's love may prove; And while I speak thou knowest if I smile Albeit thou dost not see my face the while.

Yes--thou canst hear--and He Who on thy sightless eye its darkness hung, To the attentive ear like harps bath strung

Heaven, and earth, and sea ! And 'tis a lesson in our hearts to know, With but one sense the soul may overflow !



It is May! it is May!

And all earth is gay,

For at last old Winter is quite away ;
He linger'd a while in his cloak of snow,
To see the delicate primrose blow ;

He saw it, and made no longer stay

And now it is May! it is May!-

It is May! it is May!

And we bless the day

When we first delightfully so can say,
April had beams amid ber showers,
Yet bare were her gardens, and cold her bowers ;
And her frown would blight, and her smile

But now it is May! it is May!

It is May! it is May!

And the slenderest spray

Holds up a few leaves to the ripening ray:
And the birds sing fearlessly out on high
For tbere is not a cloud in the calm blue sky,

And the villagers join in their roundelay

For, O 1 it is May! it is May!
It is May! it is May!

And the flowers obey
The beams wbich alone are more bright than

they :
Up they spring at the touch of the sun,
And opening their sweet eyes, one by one,

In a language of beauty they seem all to say,

And of perfumes .-'tis May! it is May!

It is May! it is May!

And delights that lay

Chilld and enchained beneath Winter's sway,
Break forth again o'er the kindling soul;
And soften and sooth it, and bless it whole;

Oh thoughts more tender than words convey
Sigh out---It is May! it is May!



This silent glen, this silent glen,

Oh how I love its solitude !
Far from those busy haunts of men,

Far from the heartless multitude ;
No eye save nature's sovereign beam ;
No breath, but heaven's, to break the dream;
No voice, but yonder babbling stream,

Dares on the ear intrude.
The peace the peace of graves is here ;

O that it would but last !
But man lives like the waning year,

Till joy's last leaf is past :
His bliss, like autumn plants, of power
To Aourish for a transient hour,
Ere the bud ripens to a flower,

Dies on the wintry blast.
Yon alder tree-see how she courts

The zephyrs as they stray ;
Yet every breeze with which she sports

Scatters a leaf away:
So man will wreaths of pleasure crave,
Though with each flower a thorn she

gave, And the last leaves him in the grave,

To coldness and decay !
How fearfully that hollow blast

Raved round the mountains hoar ;
Ruffled the wave, in fury pass'd

The heath- and was no more !
Such is the fame of mortal man-
In pride and fury it began,
Yet sooner. even than life's brief span,

The empty noise was o'er.
And even to those for whom is spread

Joy's banquet richly crown'd,
This world but-a gorgeous bed,

Where in fast slumber bound,

Pomp's gaudy trappings spread beneath,
They dream away life's fleeting breath,
Till night comes closing in, and death
Draws his dark drapery round.

HENRY Neele.


Thy neighbour ? It is he whom thou

Hast power to aid and bless,
Whose aching heart or burning brow

Thy soothing hand may press.
Thy neighbour ? 'Tis the fainting poor,


with want is dim,
Whom hunger sends from door to door ;

Go thou and succour him.
Thy neighbour ? "Tis that weary man,

Whose years are at their brim,
Bent low with sickness, cares, and pain ;

lio thou and comfort him.
Thy neighbour ? 'Tis the heart bereft

Oi every earthly gem;
Widi'w and orphan, helpless left:

Go thou and shelter them.
Thy heighbour ? Yonder toiling slave,

Fettered in thought and limb,
Whose hopes are all beyond the grave:

Go thou and ransom him.
Oh, pass not, pass not heedless by;

Perhaps thou canst redeem
The breaking heart from misery :
Oh share thy lot with him.


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