THE STAR OF THE MINE •

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And thus with man's proud spirit

Thou tellest me 'twill be,

When the forms and hues of this world fade

From his memory, as from thee:

And his heart's long-troubled waters
At last in stillness lie,
Reflecting but the images

Of the solemn world on high.

THE STAR OF THE MINE

FROM the deep chambers of a mine,
With heavy gloom o'erspread,
I saw a star at noontide shine
Serenely o'er my head.

I had not seen it midst the glow
Of the rich upper day ;
But in that shadowy world below,
How my heart blessed its ray!

And still the farther from my sight
Torches and lamps were borne,
The purer, lovelier seemed the light
That wore its beams unshorn.

Oh, what is like that heavenly spark?

A friend's kind steadfast eye,

Where, brightest when the world grows dark,
Hope, cheer, and comfort lie!

TO THE DAUGHTER OF BERNARD BARTON

HAPPY thou art, the child of one
Who in each lowly flower,
Each leaf that glances to the sun,
Or trembles with the shower;

In each soft shadow of the sky,
Or sparkle of the stream,
Will guide thy kindling spirit's eye
To trace the Love Supreme.

So shall deep quiet fill thy breast,
A joy in wood and wild;
And even for this I call thee blest,
The gentle poet's child!

WASHINGTON'S STATUE

SENT FROM ENGLAND ΤΟ AMERICA

YES! rear thy guardian hero's form
On thy proud soil, thou western world !
A watcher through each sign of storm,
O'er freedom's flag unfurled.

There, as before a shrine, to bow,

Bid thy true sons their children lead:

The language of that noble brow

For all things good shall plead.

A THOUGHT OF HOME AT SEA

The spirit reared in patriot fight,

The virtue born of home and hearth,
There calmly throned, a holy light
Shall pour o'er chainless earth.

And let that work of England's hand,
Sent through the blast and surge's roar,
So girt with tranquil glory stand
For ages on thy shore !

Such, through all time, the greetings be
That with the Atlantic billow sweep!
Telling the mighty and the free
Of brothers o'er the deep.

A THOUGHT OF HOME AT SEA

WRITTEN FOR MUSIC

"TIS lone on the waters

When eve's mournful bell

Sends forth to the sunset
A note of farewell;

When, borne with the shadows
And winds as they sweep,
There comes a fond memory
Of home o'er the deep;

When the wing of the sea-bird
Is turned to her nest,
And the thought of the sailor
To all he loves best!

133

"Tis lone on the waters--
That hour hath a spell
To bring back sweet voices,
With words of farewell.

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TO AN ORPHAN

THOU hast been reared too tenderly,
Beloved too well and long,
Watched by too many a gentle eye;
Now look on life-be strong!

Too quiet seemed thy joys for change,
Too holy and too deep;

Bright clouds, thro' summer skies that range,
Seem ofttimes thus to sleep,-

To sleep in silvery stillness bound,
As things that ne'er may melt;
Yet gaze again--no trace is found
To show thee where they dwelt.

This world hath no more love to give
Like that which thou hast known;
Yet the heart breaks not-we survive
Our treasures-and bear on.

But oh, too beautiful and blest
Thy home of youth hath been !
Where shall thy wing, poor bird! find rest,
Shut out from that sweet scene?

HYMN BY THE SICK-BED OF A MOTHER 135

Kind voices from departed years

Must haunt thee many a day;

Looks that will smite the source of tears

Across thy soul must play.

Friends-now the altered or the dead,
And music that is gone,

A gladness o'er thy dreams will shed,
And thou shalt wake-alone.

Alone! it is in that deep word
That all thy sorrow lies;
How is the heart to courage stirred
By smiles from kindred eyes!

And are these lost?—and have I said
To aught like thee-be strong?
So bid the willow lift its head,

And brave the tempest's wrong!

Thou reed! o'er which the storm hath passed,
Thou shaken with the wind!

On one, one Friend thy weakness cast-
There is but one to bind !

HYMN BY THE SICK-BED OF A MOTHER

FATHER! that in the olive-shade,

When the dark hour came on,
Didst with a breath of heavenly aid

Strengthen thy Son;