Thou changest not-but I am changed' Since first thy pleasant banks I ranged'; And the grave stranger', come to see The playplace of his infancy', Has scarce a single trace of him' Who sported once upon thy brim. The visions of my youth are past— Too bright', too beautiful', to last. I've tried the world'-it wears no more The coloring of romance it wore. Yet well has nature kept the truth She promised to my earliest youth'; The radiant beauty, shed abroad On all the glorious works of God', Shows freshly, to my sobered eye', Each charm it wore in days gone by. A few brief years shall pass away', And I, all trembling', weak, and gray', Bowed to the earth', which waits to fold My shes in the embracing mold', (If, haply, the dark will of fate Indulge my life so long a date',) May come for the last time to look Upon my childhood's favorite brook. Then dimly on my eye shall gleam The sparkle of thy dancing stream', And faintly on my ear shall fall Thy prattling current's merry call; Yet shalt thou flow as glad and bright As when thou met'st my infant sight. And I shall sleep'-and on thy side', Children their early sports shall try', LESSON LXXXIII. THE YELLOW VIOLET. WHEN beechen buds begin to swell', Peeps from the last year's leaves below. Ere russet fields their green resume', Sweet flower', I love, in forest bare', Of all her train', the hands of Spring Beside the snow-bank's edges cold. Thy parent sun', who bade thee view Pale skies', and chilling moisture sip', Has bathed thee in his own bright hue', And streaked with jet thy glowing lip. Yet slight thy form', and low thy seat', When loftier flowers are flaunting nigh. Oft, in the sunless April day', Thy early smile has stayed my walk', But midst the gorgeous blooms of May', I passed thee on thy humble stalk. So they', who climb to wealth', forget That I should ape the ways of pride. And when again the genial hour That made the woods of April bright. LESSON LXXXIV. EPITHALAMIUM. I SAW two clouds at morning I thought that morning cloud was blest', I saw two summer currents Flow smoothly to their meeting', And joined their course, with silent forcé, Calm was their course through banks of green', Such be your gentle motion', Till life's last pulse shall beat'; Like summer's beam, and summer's stream', Float on', in joy, to meet' A calmer sea, where storms shall ceasè- LESSON LXXXV. CHANGES ON THE DEEP. A GALLANT ship'! and trim and tight', The breath of summer sweet and soft Her canvass swells', while, wide and fair', And floating from her mast aloft', Her flag plays off on gentle air. And now grave twilight's tender veil' And, many a heart that's warm and true' Their thoughts fly forth to those, who there' The babe, that on its father's breast', And sinks with it in sweet repose. From which the towering storm shall rise. The powers of air are now about' To muster from their hidden caves'; Its voice-but, who shall give the sounds She's in a scene of nature's war. The winds and waters are at strife'; The brittle thread of human life' A moment-and the angry blast' Has done its work', and hurried on. While from the waves a piercing cry' And sounds to heaven', 'My child'! my child'!' The mother, in the whelming surge', Lifts up her infant o'er the sea', |