THE YEARS. 1 Years-how swiftly they go by, Changing plumage as they fly, Sometimes white, and sometimes grey Purple, sable, fleet alway! 2 Would you have their course more'slow ? -Yes or No. Frankly tell me— I am puzzled I confess, But I think I'll answer Yes! 3 That's almost a negative : But to this an answer give, When you count the years you've pass'd Wish you they had flown more fast? 4 No, I answer, firm and plain; With their pleasure and their pain, Taking all the years together, I'm contented to a feather. 5 Dark the future years, and few Now are left for me or you : Tell me, would you stay their flight To the realm of Death's long night? 6 To that question I reply, With the years I still would fly, Wafted by their shadowy wings. 7 Ah! you brave it cheerily, Like a sail on the wild sea, Or a sear leaf on the bough When fierce Autumn drives the plough. WEEPING YET SMILING. 1 ONE touch'd some chords that long had slept, Another heard, and in her eyes Tears gather'd at the sweet surprise, And yet she smiled although she wept. 2 It took her heart back to the years Of happy childhood, hopeful youth, The days of innocence and truth, When smiles yet wore no trace of tears. 3 Why weeps she now? Among the forms The lute did with its magic frame, Gazing on which my own heart warms. 4 It was the air he used to sing, The Sapling Oak,' like which he grew, Sound at the core, and to the view Majestic as the forest king. 5 'Twas summer-ah! how long ago! When, in the shade of such a tree, We heard him sing that melody, And saw the rippling Tavy flow. 6 The woodland echoes caught the tone, And like an orchestra the birds Accompanied the noble words, As if they had their meaning known. 7 I see him still, and hear as then The voice I thought was mute for ever; The birds return from glen and river, And all the leaves are green again. 8 But not more sweet at that bright hour Than the wan lily of the vale Which, dew'd with tears, still decks my bower. 9 Oh! strange that Memory should keep That a few tones from Music's shell Should cause us thus to smile and weep. 10 But, if a simple strain can wake Such sweet remembrances as these, May not celestial harmonies The long, sepulchral slumber break? 11 At times, when from my chamber dim |