HE NORTH STAR. d solemn night er multitude of cheerful fires; ests of light emisphere till she retires; watches, gliding slow, come, and climb the heavens, and go. many a star orgeous reign, as bright as they : e blue fields afar, wow in his flaming way: geter, as the eve grows dim, t troop arose and set with him. Codest see them rise, e and thou dost see them set. old unmoving station yet, There, at morn's rosy birth, Thou lookest meekly through the kindling air, Chases the day, beholds thee watching there; Alike, beneath thine eye, The deeds of darkness and of light are done; High toward the starlit sky Towns blaze, the smoke of battle blots the sun, The night storm on a thousand hills is loud, And the strong wind of day doth mingle sea and cloud. On thy unaltering blaze The half-wrecked mariner, his compass lost, Fixes his steady gaze, And steers, undoubting, to the friendly coast; And they who stray in perilous wastes, by night, Are glad when thou dost shine to guide their footsteps right. And, therefore, bards of old, Sages and hermits of the solemn wood, Did in thy beams behold A beauteous type of that unchanging good, That bright eternal beacon, by whose ray The voyager of time should shape his heedful way. Great Barrington, 1825. “United States Literary Gazette,” January 15, 1825. THE LAPSE OF TIME. L AMENT who will, in fruitless tears, The speed with which our moments fly; I sigh not over vanished years, But watch the years that hasten by. Look, how they come-a mingled crowd What! grieve that time has brought so soon As idly might I weep, at noon, Could I give up the hopes that glow With all her promises and smiles? The future-cruel were the power Whose doom would tear thee from my heart, Thou sweetener of the present hour! We cannot-no-we will not part. Oh, leave me, still, the rapid flight The months that touch, with added grace, The years, that o'er each sister land. Till younger commonwealths, for aid, True-time will seam and blanch my brow— And then, should no dishonor lie Then haste thee, Time-'tis kindness all Thou fliest and bear'st away our woes, A lighter burden on the heart. Great Barrington, 1825. "United States Literary Gazette," February 15, 1825. |