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THERE IS BEAUTY.

"Marvel not

That love leans sadly on his bended bow ;
He hath found out the loveliness of mind,
And he is spoilt for beauty."

TOKEN.

THERE is beauty on earth, when it wears
The gay young green of the spring;
Or the rich bloom of summer bears,

That poets have loved to sing.
There is beauty in heaven, when the sun
Throws a blush o'er the glorious blue;
Or the stars in their nightly circles run,
Beaming out with their diamond hue.

There is beauty in man, when the face
Is lit up with the spirit's flame;
Or when feeling joined with female grace
Forms the charm which hath no name.

But O! there is beauty, that naught

On earth or in man can express ;

Yet how seldom seen, and how little sought!
"Tis "the beauty of holiness!"

1828.

TO MISS E. P. B.

THE ALBUM-A GARDEN OF FLOWERS.

BEHOLD gay fancy's garden of young flowers,
Which bud and blossom in life's sunny hours:
Its hedge is Poesy's rich evergreen;

Affection's sky of blue is o'er the scene,

And friendship's tears enrich the softened ground, While Love's warm sighs breathe fragrance all around. Such is your album-oh, then let each page

Unfold that lily of life's early age,

Sweet Innocence! that purest ornament

By Heaven to Heaven's best gift, dear woman, lent; And with the lily let the blushing rose

Of modesty its mantling red disclose.

Be such the flowers which spring from these fair beds;
Nor let Religion's walk, when here she treads,
E'er meet with poisonous herb, or loathsome weed,
Which from Corruption's deep, dark root proceed ;
But at each turn some blooming altar find
O'ertopped with flowers and fruits of purest kind,
The first-fruit offerings of the innocent mind.

OUR HOME IS NOT ON EARTH.

WRITTEN IN A LADY'S ALBUM.

“In my Father's house are many mansions.

to prepare a place for you.

I go

"And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.”

ST. JOHN, XIV., 2, 3,

OUR home is not on earth,

Above yon sky 'tis given;

Then, Mary, think how little worth
The world, compared with heaven.

Sorrow we meet below

Sin is our common dower;

But, Mary, toward our home we go,
And there they have no power.

A foe unseen is near,

While pilgrims here we roam;
But, Mary, Jesus calms our fear,
And He will lead us home.

THE THREE HOLY DAYS.

THERE are three days of holy time;

Three days of sanctity;

Of all the circle of the year,

They are the wondrous three.

On one the heavens were robed in black,
The sun his face did hide;

And well might earth and sky be rent;—
Their Maker, Jesus, died!
And one beheld the sepulchre

Closed on the mighty dead;

While to the realms of Paradise
The soul divine had fled.

Then came the day when life and light
Broke on the gloomy grave;

And rose from death to heaven on high The God who died to save!

There are three days of holy time;

Three days of sanctity;

Of all the circle of the year,
They are the wondrous three.

THE FEAST OF ANCIENT EGYPT.

"The Egyptians made themselves strangely familiar with death, living in the midst of the mummies of their ancestors, which they preserved in their houses, and causing them to be brought to their feasts."

AMER. QUARTt. Review.

THE feast was spread, and the laugh went round, The lights fell on beauty's splendor—

But there came a pause !—The guests were bound A welcome strange to render.

The music changed, and the cheerful song
Grew sad, to a death-song turning;
And the iron portals, dark and strong,
Unclosed to the notes of mourning.

The dead stood around that dreadful room,
Awating their sons advancing;

And the living thought of their own doom,
Their eyes on their kinsmen glancing.

Sad was the welcome-but wise were they
Who mingled their joys with sorrow :
A warning it was to the young and gay
Of what might be on the morrow.