POETRY.

TO SERENITY,

DAUGHTERS of contentment, known

To enter where she dwells, alone!

Fair transient visitor, with thee

How swift our pageant comforts flee!
When morbid sadness numbs the brain,
The pride of earthly pomp is vain,
Within the slow forgetful eye
Its dull desires imperfect die,
And all imagination's store

Can sooth the weary mind no more.
No more can mirth or music cheer,
With sport or song th' unconscious ear,
While inward griefs the soul employ,
A stranger to the voice of joy.

When morning, rob'd in vest of light,
Breathes freshness o'er the dim-seen height;
When evening's last unclouded ray,

Gilds the fair scenes of parting day;

When night's pale queen, in silence deep,
Wide wanders o'er yon western steep,

Still, dress'd by thee, at every view,
The youthful landscape charms anew,
And still on easy wing upborne

Light as the mountain airs of morn,
The spirits dance, if chas'd by thee,*
The storms of dark amazement flee;
For thou to full expansive day
Cans't quicken reason's slumbering ray,
Can'st bid the listless thoughts aspire,
And clothe them with immortal fire.

DIALOGUE.

From the Greek of Posidippus.

The Traveller and Statue of Opportunity.
Tr. SAY, image, by what sculptor's hand
In breathing marble here you stand?

Opp. By his whose art to thousands known,
Bids Jove and Pallas live in stone:

But seldom seen by human eyes,

I claim the kindred of the skies;

By few I'm found, though great my fame,
And Opportunity's my name.

Tr. Say, if the cause you may reveal,.

Why thus supported on a wheel?

Opp. The wheel my rapid course implies,

Like that with constant speed it flies.

Tr. Wings on your feet?-Opp. I'm apt to soar→ Neglected, I return no more.

Tr. But why behind deprived of hair?

Opp. Escaped, that none may seize me there.
Tr. Your locks unbound conceal your eyes?

Opp. Because I chiefly court disguise.
Tr. Why coupled with that solemn fair,
Of downcast mien and mournful air?

Opp. Repentance she (the stone replies),
My substitute, behind me flies:
Observe, and her you'll ever see
Pursue the wretch deprived of me;

By her corrected, mortals mourn,

For what they've done, and what forborne.
Ask me no more, for while you stay,

I vanish unperceived away.

SAINT AUGUSTINE TO HIS SISTER

From Moore's Sacred Songs.

I.

OH fair! oh purest! be thou the Dove,
That flies alone to some sunny grove;

The sacred pages of God's own Book,
Shall be the Spring, the eternal brook,
In whose holy mirror, night and day,
Thou wilt study Heaven's reflected ray:-
And should the foes of Virtue dare,
With gloomy wing to seek thee there,
Thou wilt see how dark their shadows lie
Between Heaven and thee, and trembling fly!
Oh! be like this Dove,

Oh fair! oh purest! be like this Dove.

SERENADE

Suggested by the music of Cherubini's trio, “ Non mi negate, no.”

Steal from the window, dear,

Beneath the dark trees plumy,

And crossing once by the moon-light clear,
Look down the garden to me.

Far strikes the shape away,

And shows thee a refin'd one;

Thy step is like the air we play,

Thou lovely, frank, and kind one.

L. HUNT.

THE SIMILE OF A BEAUTIFUL NIGHT,
Literally translated from Homer.

As when around the moon the stars appear
Loveliest in heaven, and all is hush'd and clear,
When mountain-tops, and uplands, bask in light,
And woods; and all th' ætherial depth of night
Seems open'd back to heav'n, and sight is had
Of all the stars, and shepherd's hearts are glad;
So many, 'twixt the ships and river, shone
The Trojan fires in front of Ilion.

L. HUNT.

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And lives unseen, and hathes her wine