No more, my baby, shalt thou lie,
With drowsy smile and half-shut eye,
Pillowed upon my fostering breast
Serenely sinking into rest!

The grave must be thy cradle, now;
The wild-flowers o'er thy breast shall grow,
While still my heart, all full of thee,
In widowed solitude shall be.

No taint of earth, no thought of sin,
E'er dwelt thy stainless breast within,
And God hath laid thee down to sleep,
Like a pure pearl below the deep.

Yea! from mine arms thy soul hath flown
Above, and found the heavenly throne,
To join that blest angelic ring,

That aye around the altar sing.

Methought when years had rolled away,
That thou wouldst be my age's stay;
And often have I dreamt to see

The boy-the youth-the man in thee!

But thou hast past! for ever gone,
To leave me childless and alone,
Like Rachel pouring tear on tear,
And looking not for comfort here!

Farewell, my child, the dews shall fall,
At noon and evening, o'er thy pall :
And daisies, when the vernal year
Revives, upon thy turf appear.

The earliest snow-drop there shall spring,
And lark delight to fold his wing;

And roses pale, and lilies fair,

With perfume load the summer air!

Adieu, my babe! if life were long,
This would be even a heavier song;
But years, like phantoms, quickly pass,
They look to us from memory's glass.

Soon on death's couch shall I recline;
Soon shall my head be laid with thine;
And sundered spirits meet above,
To live for evermore in love.

MOIR.

THE twining jasmine and the blushing rose,
With lavish grace their morning scents disclose;
The smelling tuberose and jonquil declare
The stronger impulse of an ev'ning air.

PRIOR.

ΤΟ

I SEND the Lilies given to me;

Though long before thy hand they touch,
I know that they must withered be;
But yet reject them not as such:
For I have cherished them as dear,

Because they yet may meet thine eye, And guide thy soul to mine, even here, When thou behold'st them drooping nigh, And know'st them gathered by the Rhine, And offered from my heart to thine!

The river nobly foams and flows,

The charm of this enchanted ground, And all its thousand turns disclose, Some fresher beauty varying round; The haughtiest breast its wish might bound, Through life to dwell delighted here; Nor could on earth a spot be found,

To Nature and to me so dear,

Could thy dear eyes, in following mine,
Still sweeten more these banks of Rhine!

BYRON.

THE NOSEGAY.

I CULLED for my love a fresh nosegay, one day;
She smiled as I flew to her side;

I checked the soft sunbeam of pleasure's bright ray,
While thus I, half playfully, cried :-

"Those lilies and sweets, gentle maid, are like yours, This nosegay thy excellence tells;

The rose to the eye, like thy beauty, allures,
But its thorn, like thy virtue, repels."

The jasmine, so simple, so sweet to the sense,
Of gentle and delicate hue,

Recals all thy talents, so void of pretence,

So modest, yet exquisite too;

The woodbine, where bees love their treasures to seek

Is a type of affection like mine;

And oh! may this innocent flow'r my wish speak,

And heartsease for ever be thine!

SONG.

AUX FLEURS.

FLEURS charmantes! par vous la nature est plus belle, Dans ses brillants travaux l'art vous prend pour

modèle ;

Simples tributs du cœur, vos dons sont chaque jour
Offerts par l'amitié, hazardés par l'amour.

D'embellir la beauté vous obtenez la gloire ;

Le laurier vous permet de parer la victoire;

Plus d'un hameau vous donne en prix à la pudeur;
L'autel même où de Dieu repose la grandeur,

Se parfume au printemps de vos douces offrandes,
Et la Religion sourit à vos guirlandes.

Mais c'est dans nos jardins qu'est votre heureux sejour.
Filles de la rosée et de l'astre du jour,

Venez donc; de nos champs decorer le theâtre.

Sans obéir aux lois d'un art capricieux

Fleurs, parure des champs et délices des yeux,
De vos riches couleurs venez peindre la terre.
Venez; mais n'allez pas dans les buis d'un parterre,
Renfermer vos appas tristement relégués;
Que vos heureux trésors soient partout prodigués,
Tantôt de ces tapis émaillez la verdure;
Tantôt de ces sentiers egayez la bordure;
Serpentez en guirlande; entourez ces berceaux,
En méandres brillants, courez au bord des eaux,
Ou tapissez ces mûrs, ou dans cette corbeille
Du choix de vos parfums embarrassez l'abeille.

DE DELILLE. "Les Jardins."