Star of the deep! at that blest name That made the deep's foundations reel; So soothing through the realms of woe, Star of the mild and placid seas, Star of the deep! when angel lyres In vain a mortal harp aspires When storms and tempests pass away, To join the bright immortal quires. VALE CRUCIS. W. S. Roscoe. VALE of the cross, the shepherds tell Vale of the Cross, the shepherds tell And all the quiet God hath giv'n DEAR IS THE HOUR. T. Moore. HOW dear to me the hour when day-light dies And sun-beams melt along the silent sea; For then sweet dreams of other days arise, And as I watch the line of light that plays Along the smooth wave towards the burning west, I long to tread that golden path of rays, And think 'twould lead to some bright Isle of rest! PENSHURST. Southey. ARE days of old familiar to thy mind, Sidney here was born, Sidney than whom no gentler, braver man Illustrating the vales of Arcady With courteous courage and with loyal loves.- And in the beauty of its strength it stood Had mouldered dust to dust. That stately oak itself hath mouldered Now, but Sidney's fame Endureth in his own immortal works. IT IS NOT THE TEAR AT THIS MOMENT SHED.. T. Moore. IT is not the tear at this moment shed When the green turf has just been laid o'er him; That can tell how belov'd was the soul that's fled, Or how deep in our hearts we deplore him. "Tis the tear thro' many a long day wept Thro' a life by his loss all shaded, "Tis the sad remembrance fondly kept, When all lighter griefs have faded! Oh! thus shall we mourn and his memory's light, While it shines thro' our hearts will improve them, For worth shall look fairer and truth more bright, When we think how he liv'd, but to love them. And as buried saints the grave perfume, Where fadeless they've long been lying; So our hearts shall borrow a sweet'ning bloom INSCRIPTION FOR A COLUMN AT NEWBURY. Southey. ART thou a Patriot, Traveller? on this field Beats high with conscious pride. Both uncorrupt, If with thy neighbour thou shouldst not accord, And quell each angry and injurious thought. INSCRIPTION FOR A CAVERN THAT OVERLOOKS THE RIVER AVON. Southey. Enter this cavern, Stranger! the ascent Its dark green branches down. No common spot |