Go forward, like a free-born child,

Thy chains and weakness past,

Thou hast thy manna in the wild,
Thy Pisgah, at the last!

And yet, those far and forfeit bowers

Will rise, in after years,

The flowers, and one who nursed the flowers, With smiles that turned to tears;

And I shall see her holy eye,

In visions of the night,

As her youthful form goes stealing by,
The beautiful and bright!

But I must wake, to bear along
A bruised and buried heart,
And smile amid the smiling throng

With whom I have no part;

To watch for hopes that may not bud

Amid my spirit's gloom,

Till He, who flowered the prophet's rod,
Shall bid them burst to bloom!

REFLECTION.

AFTER A PICTURE OF A GIRL, LOST IN THOUGHT.

THOUGHT sits upon her happy brow-like light!
-The young, pure thoughts that have no taint of sin!
Making the mortal beauty yet more bright,
By the immortal beauty from within!

Oh, blessed youth!-like perfume to the flower
Is thought to her- -a loveliness the more!
Must she-oh! must she meet its darker hour,

That shows the ghosts of what it showed before;

When death-crowned death-o'er all the heart holds

worth

Rides, on the pale steed, memory,-trampling all;
And thoughts are like the fingers that came forth,
And wrote their burning curse upon the wall,-
Searing, alike, the spirit and the brow!

--Oh! for the heaven that should receive her, now!

A FAREWELL.

My early love, and must we part!
Yes!-other wishes win thee now,

New hopes are springing in thy heart,
New feelings brightening o'er thy brow!
And childhood's light and childhood's home
Are all forgot, at glory's call;-

Yet, cast one thought, in years to come,
On her who loved thee-o'er them all!

When pleasure's bowl is filled for thee,
And thou hast raised thè cup to sip,
I would not that one dream of me
Should chase the chalice from thy lip;

But should there mingle in the draught One dream of days that long are o'er, Then-only then-the pledge be quafft To her who ne'er shall taste it more!

When love and friendship's holy joys Within their magic circle bound thee, And happy hearts and smiling eyes,As all must wear who are around thee ! Remember that an eye as bright

Is dimmed, a heart as true is broken,

--

And turn thee from thy land of light, To waste on these some little token!

But do not weep!-I could not bear
To stain thy cheek with sorrow's trace,
I would not draw one single tear,
For worlds, down that beloved face!
As soon would I, if power were given,
Pluck out the bow from yonder sky,

And free the prisoned floods of heaven,

As call one tear-drop to thine eye!

Yet oh, my love !-I know not why,
It is a woman's thought!—but while
Thou offerest to my memory,

The tribute should not be a smile!
For, though I would not see thee weep,
The heart, methinks! should not be gay,
That would the fast of feeling keep
To her who loves it-far away!

No! give me but one single sigh,
Pure as we breathed in happier hours,
When very sighs were winged with joy,
Like gales that have swept over flowers!
That uttering of a fond regret,

That strain my spirit long must pour !—
A thousand dreams may wait us yet,
Our holiest and our first is o'er !