MRS. ANNA MARIA WELLS.

TO A YOUNG MOTHER.

BELINDA! the young blossom that doth lie
So lightly on thy bosom, -clasp it there;
For on her brow an empress doth not wear,
Nor in her jewelled zone, a gem more fair,
Or that doth deck her more becomingly.
Forget not, then, that deep within thy flower
The germs lie hid of lovelier, holier things:-
Filial affection, that spontaneous springs;
High truth and maiden purity; the power
That comes of gentleness; ay, and more,
Piety, nourished in the bosom's core.

These, if so cherished, shall thy blossom bear,
And, with the dews of heavenly love impearled,
It shall adorn thee in another world.

MRS. ELIZABETH FRIES ELLET.

I.

SHEPHERD, with meek brow wreathed with blossoms sweet,
Who guard'st thy timid flock with tenderest care;
Who guid'st in sunny paths their wandering feet,
And the young lambs dost in thy bosom bear;
Who lead'st thy happy flock to pastures fair,

And by still waters at the noon of day,
Charming with lute divine the silent air,
What time they linger on the verdant way;
Good Shepherd! might one gentle distant strain.
Of that immortal melody sink deep

Into my heart, and pierce its careless sleep,
And melt by powerful love its sevenfold chain, —
O, then my soul thy voice should know, and flee
To mingle with thy flock, and ever follow thee.

II.

O WEARY heart, there is a rest for thee!
O truant heart, there is a blessed home,
An isle of gladness on life's wayward sea,

Where storms that vex the waters never come.
There trees perennial yield their balmy shade;

There flower-wreathed hills in sunlit beauty sleep; There meek streams murmur through the verdant glade ; There heaven bends smiling o'er the placid deep. Winnowed by wings immortal that fair isle ;

Vocal its air with music from above;

There meets the exile eye a welcoming smile;

There ever speaks a summoning voice of love

Unto the heavy-laden and distressed, -
"Come unto me, and I will give you rest.”

MRS. ALICE BRADLEY NEAL.

I.

MIDNIGHT.

I HAD been tossing through the restless night,
Sleep banished from my pillow, and my brain
Weary with sense of dull and stifling pain, -
Yearning and praying for the blessed light.
My lips moaned thy dear name, beloved one;
Yet I had seen thee lying still and cold,

Thy form bound only by the shroud's pure fold,
For life with all its suffering was done.'

Then agony of loneliness o'ercame

My widowed heart. Night would fit emblem seem For the evanishing of that bright dream.

The heavens were dark: my life henceforth the same. No hope its pulse within my breast was dead.

No light the clouds hung heavily o'erhead.

II.

DAYBREAK.

ONCE more I sought the casement.

Lo! a ray,

Faint and uncertain, struggled through the gloom,
And shed a misty twilight on the room,
Long-watched-for herald of the coming day!
It brought a thrill of gladness to my breast.
With clasped hands, and streaming eyes, I prayed,
Thanking my God for light, though long delayed;
And gentle calm stole o'er my wild unrest.
"O soul!" said I, "thy boding murmurs cease.
Though sorrow bind thee as a funeral pall,
Thy Father's hand is guiding thee through all;
His love will bring a true and perfect peace.

Look upward once again, though drear the night:

Earth may be darkness; Heaven will give thee light."