Still to wander, weary pilgrims,
O'er the wide world after gold.

Little réck they of the dangers, Little reck they of the woes, Urged along by strong endeavour, Heedless both of friends and foes:

Gazing on the shadow moving
At their sides till sun hath set,
Ever whispering to their spirit,
"Courage! we will grasp it yet!"

Over plain and over mountain,—
Rocks their zeal can ne'er resist,
Up the rugged heights they clamber
Till they perish in the mist;

Down the steep and pathless hollows
Blindly falling as they speed,
Calling still with dying accents
On their fellows to take heed:

Over stream, and trackless ocean,
With the storm-cloud hatching nigh,

Ever waiting there to thunder

At the bidding of the sky :

Tossing on the angry billow,

Heart and soul beset with fear,

Yet with longing all unshaken,

Onward through the blast they steer:

Over marsh, and sandy desert,
Sinking 'neath the scorching sun,
Hopeless, weary, madly thirsting,
Slowly dying, one by one:

Leaving many a bone to whiten
By the wayside, and to tell
By mortality's drear tide-marks,
How its surges rose and fell :

Through the spring, and through the summer, When the flowers are on the lea;

.

Through the autumn when the blossoms
Fade and wither drearily :

Through the chill and ghostly winter
When the year is in its shroud,
And corruption preys on Nature,
Stooping fiercely from its cloud :

Through the light and through the darkness, Through the rain and through the snow, Striving onward without resting,

Seeking gold above, below;

In the earth, and in the water,
In the rock, and in the clay,
Gathering up the sandy beaches,
Searching, sifting them away;

Never resting, but with spirits
Eager, breathless to attain,

Evermore they hurry forward

To their purpose o'er life's plain ;

With their garments waxing olden,
And their sandals wearing out,
And the sinews growing weaker
That once bore them up so stout :

With the vision ever dimmer
To discern the cherish'd prize,
Till at length upon his travail,
At each step some pilgrim dies;

His glazed eye still feebly turning
E'en in death unto the goal
That yet glimmers far beyond him,
The life-haven of his soul.

But a stalwart phalanx presseth
Onward still with hearts serene,
Strong in faith and steadfast courage,
Meeting toil with dauntless mien :

Working out their primal mission

Through the calm and through the blast,

Gathering fitness for the future

From the Present, and the Past.

Thus enduring, thus pursuing,
Foster'd by a mighty hand,
Through all dangers of the travel,

Come they to the Golden Land ;

Find the treasures they are seeking
Richly pour'd into ther breast;
Toil and danger ever finish'd

Now they sweetly take their rest;

With the light of glory shining

From the Godhead on their souls, Whilst above them the broad banner Of Eternity unrolls.

CONFESSION.

66

ROSA.

FROM THE LITERARY GAZETTE.

NAY, holy father, come not near,
The secrets of my heart to hear;
For not to mortal ear I tell

The griefs that in this bosom swell,

The thoughts, the wishes, wild and vain,
That wander through this burning brain.
Frail fellow-being! why should I
Before thee kneel imploringly?

'Twere worse than madness to believe

Man can his brother-worm forgive,

Or yield unto the contrite one

That peace which comes from Heaven alone.

No let me spend my vesper hour
In commune with a higher Power:
The world shut out, I'll lowly bend
To my Almighty Father, Friend!
To Him for mercy I'll appeal,
To Him my inmost soul reveal:
He knows the heart that He has made,
By each alternate passion sway'd,

And can forgive it; for He knows
Its wants, its weakness, and its woes.
By His protecting pardon blest,

How sweetly might I sink to rest,
And sleep, His sheltering wing beneath,

Though 'twere the last dark sleep of death!

LINES SUGGESTED BY THE SIGHT OF A BEAUTIFUL STATUE OF A DEAD CHILD.

66

MRS. ALARIC A. WATTS. FROM THE LITERARY

SOUVENIR," 1831.

I SAW thee in thy beauty! bright phantom of the past;
I saw thee for a moment-'twas the first time and the last;
And though years since then have glided by of mingled

bliss and care,

I never have forgotten thee, thou fairest of the fair!

Y