And the wind ceased-it ceased! that word And slumber settled on the deep, And silence on the blast; They sank, as flowers that fold to sleep When sultry day is past. O Thou! that in its wildest hour Didst rule the tempest's mood, Send thy meek spirit forth in power, Soft on our souls to brood! Thou that didst bow the billow's pride Speak, and say, "Peace, be still!” ЕРІТАРН . OVER THE GRAVE OF TWO BROTHERS, A CHILD AND A YOUTH. [Amongst the numerous friends Mrs Hemans was fortunate enough to possess in Scotland, there was one to whom she was linked by so peculiar a bond of union, and whose unwearied kindness is so precious an inheritance to her children, that it is hoped the owner of a name so dear to them, (though it be a part of her nature to shrink from publicity,) will forgive its being introduced into these pages. This invaluable friend was Lady Wedderburn,1 the mother of those two brothers, a child and a youth," for whose monument Mrs Hemans had written an inscription, which, with its simple pathos, has doubtless sunk deep into the heart of many a mourner, as well as of many a yet rejoicing parent, there called upon to remember that for them, too, "Speaks the grave, Where God hath seal'd the fount of hope He gare." Into the gentle heart, which has found relief for its own sorrows in soothing the griefs and promoting the enjoyments of others, the author of this sacred tribute was taken with a warmth and loving-kindness which extended its genial influence to all belonging to her; and during their stay in Edinburgh, whither they proceeded from Abbotsford, Mrs Hemans and her children were cherished with a true home welcome at the house of Sir David Wedderburn.—Memoir, p. 192.] THOU, that canst gaze upon thine own fair boy, And hear his prayer's low murmur at thy knee, And o'er his slumber bend in breathless joy, Come to this tomb !-it hath a voice for thee! 1 The lady of Sir David Wedderburn, Bart., and sister of the late Viscountess Hampden. The monument on which the lines are inscribed, is at Glynde, in Sussex, near Lord Hampden's seat. This excellent lady only survived Mrs Hemans a few years. Pray! Thou art blest- ask strength for sorrow's hour: Love, deep as thine, lays here its broken flower. Thou that art gathering from the smile of youth MONUMENTAL INSCRIPTION. EARTH! guard what here we lay in holy trust, But thou, O heaven! keep, keep what thou hast taken, And with our treasure keep our hearts on high; The spirit meek, and yet by pain unshaken, The faith, the love, the lofty constancyGuide us where these are with our sister flown: They were of Thee, and thou hast claim'd thine own! THE SOUND OF THE SEA. THOU art sounding on, thou mighty sea! The ancient rocks yet ring to thee- Oh! many a glorious voice is gone From the rich bowers of earth, And hush'd is many a lovely one Of mournfulness or mirth. The Dorian flute that sigh'd of yore And Memnon's lyre hath lost the chord That breathed the mystic tone; And the songs at Rome's high triumphs pour'd Are with her eagles flown. THOU art a thing on our dreams to rise, Thou art a thing to recall the hours When the love of our souls was on leaves and flowers, When a world was our own in some dim sweet grove, And treasure untold in one captive dove. Are they gone? can we think it, while thou art there, No! never more may we smile as thou To have met the joy of thy speaking face, To have felt the spell of thy breezy grace, SCENE IN A DALECARLIAN MINE. "Oh! fondly, fervently, those two had loved, Had mingled minds in Love's own perfect trust; "HASTE, with your torches, haste! make firelight [wore |