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Before Creation peopled earth,
Its eye shall roll through chaos back ;
The spirit trace its rising track.
Its glance dilate o'er all to be,
Fixed in its own eternity.
Above or love, hope, hate, or fear,
It lives all passionless and pure ;
Its years as moments shall endure.
O'er all, through all, its thoughts shall fly;
YOU REMEMBER, ELLEN.
You remember Ellen, our hamlet's pride,
How meekly she blessed her humble lot, When the stranger, William, had made her his bride, And ove was the light of their lowly cot.
Together they toiled through winds and rains,
Till William at length, in sadness said, • We must seek our fortune on other plains ;
Then, sighing, she left her lowly shed.
They roamed a long and a weary way,
Nor much was the maiden's heart at ease,
They see a proud castle among the trees.
The wind blows cold, the hour is late :'
And the porter bowed as they passed the gate.
Now welcome, lady!' exclaimed the youth,
"This castle is thine, and these dark woods all !' She believed him wild, but his words were truth,
For Ellen is Lady of Rosna Hall ! And dearly the Lord of Rosna loves
What William the stranger woo'd and wed; And the light of bliss, in these lonely groves, Is pure as it shone in the lonely shed,
Moore, ON THE APPROACH OF DEATH.
Yes, 'twill be over soon. This sickly dream
Of life will vanish from my feverish brain ; And death my wearied spirit will redeem
From this wild region of unvaried pain. Yon brook will glide as softly as before,—
Yon landscape smile,-yon golden harvest grow; Yon sprightly lark on mountain wing will soar,
When Henry's name is heard no more below. I sigh when all my youthful friends caress ;
They laugh in health, and future evils brave; Them shall a wife and smiling children bless,
While I am mouldering in my silent grave. God of the just Thou gavest the bitter cup; I bow to thy behest, and drink it up.
H. K. White.
IN THE PROSPECT OF DEATH,
O most delightful hour by man
Experienced here below,
The hour that terminates his
span, His folly and his woe!
Worlds should not bribe me back to tread
Again life's dreary waste;
With all the gloomy past.
My home henceforth is in the skies,
Earth, seas, and sun adieu !
I have no sight for you.
So speaks the Christian, firm possessed
Of faith's supporting rod;
Take one example ; to our purpose quitė,
An heir of flattery, to titles born,
And first in school-boy days,