LONG TIME AGO.

NEAR the lake where drooped the willow,
Long time ago!

Where the rock threw back the billow,

Brighter than the snow;

Dwelt a maid beloved and cherished
By high and low;

But with autumn's leaf she perished,
Long time ago!

Rock, and tree, and flowing water,
Long time ago!

Bird, and bee, and blossom taught her

Love's spell to know!

While to my fond words she listened,
Murmuring low,

Tenderly her dove-eyes glistened,

Long time ago!

Mingled were our hearts for ever,
Long time ago!

Can I now forget her? Never!
No, lost one, no!

To her grave these tears are given,
Ever to flow;

She's the star I missed from heaven,
Long time ago!

G. P. MORRIS.

107

GLIDE gently, thus for ever glide,

O Thames! that other bards may see

As lovely visions by thy side

As now, fair river! come to me. O glide, fair stream! for ever so, Thy quiet soul on all bestowing, Till all our minds for ever flow

As thy deep waters now are flowing.

Vain thought!-Yet be as now thou art,
That in thy waters may be seen
The image of a poet's heart,

How bright, how solemn, how serene!

Such as did once the Poet bless,

Who, murmuring here a later ditty,

Could find no refuge from distress
But in the milder grief of pity.

Now let us, as we float along,

For him suspend the dashing oar;
And pray that never child of song

May know that Poet's sorrows more.
How calm! how still! the only sound,
The dripping of the oar suspended!
-The evening darkness gathers round
By virtue's holiest powers attended.

WORDSWORTH.

A WINTER STORM.

ON the passive main

Descends the eternal force, and with strong gust
Turns from its bottom the discolour'd deep.
Through the black night that sits immense around,
Lash'd into foam, the fierce conflicting brine
Seems o'er a thousand raging waves to burn.
Meantime the mountain-billows to the clouds
In dreadful tumult swell'd, surge above surge,
Burst into chaos with tremendous roar,
And anchor'd navies from their stations drive,
Wild as the winds across the howling waste
Of mighty waters: now the inflated wave
Straining they scale, and now impetuous shoot
Into the secret chambers of the deep.
Emerging thence again, before the breath
Of full-exerted heaven, they wing their course.

THOMSON.