LINES TO A FRIEND.

FRIEND of my early days!

What pleasure 'tis to pour

Into the river of a poet's art,
With evergreened and flowered shore,
The silver runnels of such lays

As gush from out the heart!

What joy to turn again,

With feelings still the same,

As when Hope's reed of fire Burnt like the Ghebir's flame, All unobserved of men,

When first I touched my lyre!

What though my untaught song
Jarred with its lines uncouth,

Yet like white pebbles in a well,
Beneath thy bright eye's truth

My weakest thoughts became more strong,
Sands, gems beneath thy spell.

Yet still, in after years,

Despite joy's sad reverse,

Which shows that moon's eclipse

Such shadows prove no curse, When from our cheeks the tears

Are kissed by sunlit lips.

Then, once again, my lute

For thy sweet sake I'll string,

Shake from it notes, like rain
Brushed by the breeze's wing,

Or golden, falling fruit,

When Autumn treads the plain :

Come to Julia, gentle Spring!

Come with all thy wealth of flowers,

In their beauteous blossoming,

Children of the sun and showers!

Bring the pansy, velvet-hearted,

Violet, of triple hue

Golden eyed, with white lids parted,
Tearful with its beaded dew.

Every flower bring, and bless,
For her young heart's happiness.

Come to Julia, Summer yellow!
Come with all thy fruits and grain;
Come thou Autumn! soft and mellow,
O'er the brown and smoky plain,

When the landscape lieth hazy,
Calm, and quiet as the skies,
When the blight hath killed the daisy,
And the downy thistle flies;

But bring not thy melancholy,
Season of the dropping leaf!
Bind her brow with greenest holly,
Banish every badge of grief.
Come, old Winter! with thy snow,
Blowing on thy fingers numb,
Loop her locks with mistletoe,
And the gold chrysanthemum;
Paint her window with thy frost,
As if freaksome elfin band,
There at midnight had embossed
Pictured groves of Fairy Land;
Bright upon her hearth the flame!

Dance ye

shadows! black and red, Never mention sorrow's name,

Where her household light is shed;

But like some illumined vase,

May her heart be filled with light, Cheering every friendly face,

And never let her soul know night. Friend, farewell! wide space doth sever My poor vision from thy face,

But within my heart for ever

Thou shalt have thy dwelling place!

A LOVE LAY.

SOME thoughts of me in absent hours
May cross thy mind's unguarded dream,
Unheeded as the leaves and flowers

That fading float along the stream;
Yet while the memory of thee

Thrills deep my soul, and dims mine eye,
The passing thought that speaks of me,
Will ask in vain as brief a sigh.
Well! be it so-thy heart is free;
No hopes, no cares, to mar its rest;
But what I am, still let me be-
Lonely, unloved! so thou art blest.

Lounger among the Tombs.

THE golden sun of chivalry

Has sunk to rise no more,
No knight may set a maiden free,
Mute is the troubadour,

No rivet binds the corselet's steel

And visor there is none,

No lance to make the foemen reel,
Or glitter in the sun;

The deeds of high renown no more
Are told in camp and hall,

But War with all his thunder roar
Lies dead within his pall,

Beside his corse the gentle Peace
Hath planted olive boughs;
And lo! the yellow corn's increase,
And lo! the burnished ploughs.
Where now the field to prove the heart
Of knight to lady true,

Where Valor bows to unarmed Art,
The ancient to the new?

But those were glorious days of old,

Heroic days, by Mars!

When wave by wave of spears was rolled,
Outnumbering the stars!

When tramp of horse and banner's glance
As cohorts gay were wheeled,

Where neighing steeds and palfreys prance,
And plumes o'er bright steel bonnets dance,
And, flashing back the sun, each lance
Illuminates the field!

But not for days like these I pine,
Far better hear the tale

That old Damotas 'neath the vine

Tells shepherds in the vale,

What time the Sun his shield of gold
In zenith has displayed,