Morn came-a blight had found

The crimson velvet of the unfolding bud,

The harp-strings rang a thrilling strain, and broke— And that young mother lay upon the earth

In childless agony. Again the voice

That stirred her vision:

"He who asked of thee,

Loveth a cheerful giver." So she raised
Her gushing eyes, and, ere the tear-drop dried
Upon its fringes, smiled-and that meek smile,
Like Abraham's faith, was counted righteousness.

EPITAPH.

TRANSLATED FROM CHIABRERA.

WORDSWORTH.

Six months to six years added he remained
Upon this sinful earth, by sin unstained;
O blessed Lord! whose mercy then removed
A child whom every eye that looked on loved,
Support us, teach us calmly to resign
What we possessed, and now is wholly thine!

D

THE FIRST-BORN.

ALARIC A. WATTS.

NEVER did music sink into my soul

So "silver-sweet," as when thy first weak wail
On my rapt ear in doubtful murmurs stole,
Thou child of love and promise!-What a tale
Of hopes and fears, of gladness and of gloom,
Hung on that slender filament of sound!
Life's guileless pleasures and its griefs profound
Seemed mingling in thy horoscope of doom.
Thy bark is launched, and lifted is thy sail
Upon the weltering billows of the world;
But oh! may winds far gentler than have hurled
My struggling vessel on, for thee prevail :

Or, if thy voyage must be rough, mayst thou

Soon 'scape the storm and be-as blest as I am now!

THE MOTHER'S HEART.

THE HON. MRS. NORTON.

WHEN first thou camest, gentle, shy and fond,
My eldest-born, first hope, and dearest treasure,
My heart received thee with a joy beyond
All that it yet had felt of earthly pleasure;
Nor thought that any love again might be
So deep and strong as that I felt for thee.

Faithful and fond, with sense beyond thy years,
And natural piety that leaned to Heaven;
Wrung by a harsh word suddenly to tears,

Yet patient of rebuke when justly given-
Obedient-easy to be reconciled-

And meekly cheerful-such wert thou, my child!

Nor willing to be left; still by my side.

Haunting my walks, while summer-day was dying;

Nor leaving in thy turn; but pleased to glide Through the dark room where I was sadly lying, Or by the couch of pain, a sitter meek,

Watch the dim eye, and kiss the feverish cheek.

Oh! boy, of such as thou are oftenest made
Earth's fragile idols; like a tender flower,
No strength in all thy freshness,-prone to fade,

And bending weakly to the thunder-shower,— Still, round the loved, thy heart found force to bind, And clung, like woodbine shaken in the wind!

Then THOU, my merry love ;-bold in thy glee,
Under the bough, or by the fire-light dancing,
With thy sweet temper, and thy spirit free,

Didst come, as restless as a bird's wing glancing, Full of wild and irrepressible mirth,

Like a young sunbeam to the gladdened earth!

Thine was the shout! the song! the burst of joy! Which sweet from childhood's rosy lip resoundeth; Thine was the eager spirit nought could cloy,

And the glad heart from which all grief rebound

eth;

And many a mirthful jest and mock reply,
Lurked in the laughter of thy dark-blue eye!

And thine was many an art to win and bless,
The cold and stern to joy and fondness warming;
The coaxing smile;-the frequent soft caress;-
The earnest tearful prayer all wrath disarming!
Again my heart a new affection found,

But thought that love with thee had reached its bound.

At length THOU camest; thou, the last and least ; Nicknamed "The Emperor" by thy laughing brothers,

Because a haughty spirit swelled thy breast,

And thou didst seek to rule and sway the others; Mingling with every playful infant wile

A mimic majesty that made us smile.

And oh! most like a regal child wert thou!
An eye of resolute and successful scheming ;
Fair shoulders-curling lip—and dauntless brow-
Fit for the world's strife, not for poet's dreaming:
And proud the lifting of thy stately head,
And the firm bearing of thy conscious tread.

Different from both! yet each succeeding claim,
I, that all other love had been forswearing,
Forthwith admitted, equal and the same;

Nor injured either, by this love's comparing,
Nor stole a fraction for the newer call-

But in the mother's heart found room for ALL!

New Monthly Mag. 1837.