In vain, in vain !-too soon are felt

The wounds they cannot flee; Better in childlike tears to melt,

Pouring my soul on thee!

Sweet face, that o'er my childhood shone,
Whence is thy power of change,

Thus ever shadowing back my own,

The rapid and the strange?

Whence are they charm'd-those earnest eyes?

-I know the mystery well!

In mine own trembling bosom lies

The spirit of the spell!

Of Memory, Conscience, Love, 'tis born

Oh! change no longer, thou!

For ever be the blessing worn

On thy pure thoughtful brow!

OF

PARTING WORDS.

One struggle more, and I am free.

BYRON.

LEAVE me, oh! leave me !-unto all below

Thy presence binds me with too deep a spell ;
Thou mak❜st those mortal regions, whence I go,
Too mighty in their loveliness-farewell,

That I may part in peace !

Leave me !-thy footstep, with its lightest sound,

The very shadow of thy waving hair,

Wakes in my soul a feeling too profound,

Too strong for aught that loves and dies, to bear— Oh! bid the conflict cease!

I hear thy whisper-and the warm tears gush
Into mine eyes, the quick pulse thrills my heart;
Thou bid'st the peace, the reverential hush,

The still submission, from my thoughts depart;
Dear one! this must not be.

The past looks on me from thy mournful eye,
The beauty of our free and vernal days;

Our communings with sea, and hill, and sky-
Oh! take that bright world from my spirit's gaze!
Thou art all earth to me!

Shut out the sunshine from my dying room,
The jasmine's breath, the murmur of the bee;
Let not the joy of bird-notes pierce the gloom!
They speak of love, of summer, and of thee,
Too much-and death is here!

Doth our own spring make happy music now,
From the old beech-roots flashing into day?

Are the pure lilies imaged in its flow?

Alas! vain thoughts! that fondly thus can stray

From the dread hour so near!

If I could but draw courage from the light

Of thy clear eye, that ever shone to bless!
-Not now! 'twill not be now!-my aching sight
Drinks from that fount a flood of tenderness,

Bearing all strength away!

Leave me!-thou com'st between my heart and

Heaven!

I would be still, in voiceless prayer to die!

-Why must our souls thus love, and then be

riven ?

-Return! thy parting wakes mine agony!

-Oh, yet awhile delay!

Beyond the

pass

of shadows!-But I go,

I, that have been so loved, go hence alone;

And ye, now gathering round my own hearth's glow,
Sweet friends! it may be that a softer tone,

Even in this moment, with your laughing glee,
Mingles its cadence while you speak of me:

Of me, your soldier, 'midst the mountains lying,
On the red banner of his battles dying,

Far, far away!—and oh! your parting prayer—
Will not his name be fondly murmur'd there?
It will!—A blessing on that holy hearth!
Though clouds are darkening to o'ercast its mirth.
Mother! I may not hear thy voice again;

Sisters! ye watch to greet my step in vain ;

Young brother, fare thee well!-on each dear head

Blessing and love a thousandfold be shed,

My soul's last earthly breathings!-May your home Smile for you ever!-May no winter come,

8

No world, between your hearts! May ev'n your tears, For my sake, full of long-remember'd years,