SONNET.

TO A FRIEND WHO ASKED, HOW I FELT WHEN THE NURSE FIRST PRESENTED MY INFANT TO ME.

CHARLES! my slow heart was only sad, when first
I scanned that face of feeble infancy :
For dimly on my thoughtful spirit burst
All I had been, and all my child might be !
But when I saw it on its mother's arm,

And hanging at her bosom (she the while
Bent o'er its features with a tearful smile)
Then I was thrilled and melted, and most warm
Impressed a father's kiss: and all beguiled
Of dark remembrance and presageful fear,
I seemed to see an angel-form appear―
'Twas even thine, beloved woman mild!

So for the mother's sake the child was dear, And dearer was the mother for the child.

THE VIRGIN'S CRADLE-HYMN.

COPIED FROM A PRINT OF THE VIRGIN, IN A ROMAN

CATHOLIC VILLAGE IN GERMANY.

DORMI, Jesu! Mater ridet
Quæ tam dulcem somnum videt,
Dormi, Jesu! blandule !

Si non dormis, Mater plorat,

Inter fila cantans orat,

Blande, veni, somnule.

ENGLISH.

Sleep, sweet babe! my cares beguiling:
Mother sits beside thee smiling;
Sleep, my darling, tenderly!
If thou sleep not, mother mourneth,
Singing as her wheel she turneth:
Come, soft slumber, balmily!

EPITAPH ON AN INFANT.

Its balmy lips the infant blest
Relaxing from its mother's breast,
How sweet it heaves the happy sigh
Of innocent satiety !

And such my infant's latest sigh!
O tell, rude stone! the passer by,
That here the pretty babe doth lie,
Death sang to sleep with Lullaby.

MELANCHOLY.

A FRAGMENT.

STRETCH'D on a mouldered Abbey's broadest wall,
Where ruining ivies propped the ruins steep-
Her folded arms wrapping her tattered pall,
Had melancholy mus'd herself to sleep.

The fern was press'd beneath her hair,

The dark green adder's tongue was there; And still as past the flagging sea-gale weak, The long lank leaf bowed fluttering o'er her cheek.

That pallid cheek was flushed: her eager look Beamed eloquent in slumber! Inly wrought, Imperfect sounds her moving lips forsook, And her bent forehead worked with troubled thought.

Strange was the dream

TELL'S BIRTH-PLACE.

IMITATED FROM STOLBERG.

I.

MARK this holy chapel well!

The birth-place, this, of William Tell,
Here, where stands God's altar dread,
Stood his parents' marriage-bed.

II.

Here, first, an infant to her breast,

Him his loving mother prest;

And kissed the babe, and blessed the day,

And prayed as mothers use to pray.

III.

"Vouchsafe him health, O God! and give The child thy servant still to live!"

But God had destined to do more

Through him, than through an armed power.

IV.

God gave him reverence of laws,

Yet stirring blood in Freedom's cause-
A spirit to his rocks akin,

The eye of the hawk, and the fire therein !

V.

To Nature and to Holy Writ

Alone did God the boy commit:

Where flashed and roared the torrent, oft
His soul found wings, and soared aloft!

VI.

The straining oar and chamois chase
Had formed his limbs to strength and grace:
On wave and wind the boy would toss,
Was great, nor knew how great he was!

VII.

He knew not that his chosen hand,
Made strong by God, his native land
Would rescue from the shameful yoke
Of Slavery-the which he broke !

A CHRISTMAS CAROL.

I.

THE shepherds went their hasty way,
And found the lowly stable-shed
Where the Virgin-Mother lay:

And now they checked their eager tread,
For to the Babe, that at her bosom clung,
A mother's song the Virgin-Mother sung.

II.

They told her how a glorious light, Streaming from a heavenly throng, Around them shone, suspending night! While sweeter than a mother's song,` Blest Angels heralded the Saviour's birth, Glory to God on high! and Peace on Earth.

III.

She listened to the tale divine,

And closer still the Babe she prest; And while she cried, the Babe is mine!

The milk rushed faster to her breast:

Joy rose within her, like a summer's morn;
Peace, Peace on Earth! the Prince of Peace is born.

IV.

Thou Mother of the Prince of Peace,

Poor, simple, and of low estate !