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I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day,

I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away,
And, turning from my nursery window, drew
A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu!

But was it such? It was. Where thou art gone,
Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown.
May I but meet thee on that peaceful shore,
The parting word shall pass my lips no more!
Thy maidens grieved themselves at my concern,
Oft gave me promise of thy quick return.
What ardently I wished, I long believed,
And disappointed still, was still deceived.
By expectation every day beguiled,
Dupe of to-morrow even from a child.
Thus many a sad to-morrow came and went,
Till, all my stock of infant sorrow spent,
I learned at last submission to my lot,

But though I less deplored thee, ne'er forgot.

Where once we dwelt our name is heard no more,
Children not thine have trod my nursery floor;
And where the gardener Robin, day by day,
Drew me to school along the public way,
Delighted with my bauble coach, and wrapped
In scarlet mantle warm, and velvet cap,
'Tis now become a history little known,
That once we called the pastoral house our own.
Short-lived possession! but the record fair,
That memory keeps of all thy kindness there,
Still outlives many a storm, that has effaced
A thousand other themes less deeply traced.
Thy nightly visits to my chamber made,

That thou might'st know me safe and warmly laid;
Thy morning bounties ere I left my home,
The biscuit, or confectionary plum;

The fragrant waters on my cheek bestowed

By thy own hand, till fresh they shone and glowed,
All this, and more endearing still than all,
Thy constant flow of love, that knew no fall,
Ne'er roughened by those cataracts and breaks,

That humor interposed too often makes;
All this still legible in memory's page,
And still to be so to my latest age,
Adds joy to duty, makes me glad to pay
Such honors to thee as my numbers may;
Perhaps a frail memorial, but sincere,

Not scorned in heaven, though little noticed here.

Could Time, his flight reversed, restore the hours, When, playing with thy vesture's tissued flowers, The violet, the pink, and jessamine,

I pricked them into paper with a pin,

(And thou wast happier than myself the while, Wouldst softly speak, and stroke my head and smile,) Could those few pleasant days again appear,

Might one wish bring them, would I wish them here?
I would not trust my heart- the dear delight
Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might.

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But no
- what here we call our life is such
So little to be loved, and thou so much,
That I should ill requite thee, to constrain
Thy unbound spirit into bonds again.

Thou, as a gallant bark from Albion's coast, (The storms all weathered and the ocean crossed) Shoots into port at some well-havened isle, Where spices breathe, and brighter seasons smile, There sits quiescent on the flood, that shew Her beauteous form reflected clear below, While airs impregnated with incense play Around her, fanning light her streamers gay; So thou, with sails how swift! hast reach'd the shore, 'Where tempests never beat nor billows roar,'* And thy loved consort on the dangerous tide Of life, long since has anchored by thy side. But me, scarce hoping to attain the rest, Always from port withheld, always distressedMe howling blasts drive devious, tempest tossed, Sails ripped, seams opening wide, and compass lost, And day by day some current's thwarting force Sets me more distant from a prosperous course. Yet, O the thought, that thou art safe, and he! That thought is joy, arrive what may to me. My boast is not, that I deduce my birth From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth; But higher far my proud pretensions rise The son of parents passed into the skies. And now, farewell;- Time unrevoked has run His wonted course, yet what I wished is done. By contemplation's help, not sought in vain, I seem to have lived my childhood o'er again; To have renewed the joys that once were mine, Without the sin of violating thine:

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sleepy red eyes, And the bees and the birds are at
fine speckled wings Will flag with the close clinging damp.

3 Lady-bird! lady-bird! fly away home,

Good luck if you reach it at last!

The owl's come abroad, and the bat's on the roam,
Sharp set from their Ramavan fast.

4 Lady-bird! lady-bird! fly away home,

The fairy-bells tinkle afar!

Make haste, or they'll catch ye, and harness ye fast
With a cobweb to Oberon's car.

5 Lady-bird! lady-bird! fly away home,

To your house in the old willow tree,

Where your children, so dear, have invited the ant,
And a few cozy neighbors to tea.

6 Lady-bird! lady-bird! fly away home,-
And if not gobbled up by the way,
Nor yoked by the fairies to Oberon's car,
You're in luck-and that's all I've to say.

MRS: SOUTHEY.

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So live, that when the summons comes, to join

The innumerable caravan which moves

To that mysterious realm, where each shall take

His chamber in the silent halls of death,

Thou go not like the quarry slave at night,

Scourged, to his dungeon; but, sustained and soothed

By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave

Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch

About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.-Bryant.

LITERARY NOTICES.

WAY TO JESUS. N. Y. City: Published by Lane & Tippett. 1846.

A small book for children, containing 'Letters to Mary, Pointing out the Way to Jesus.' These letters begin with the work of the spirit upon the heart, and thus, step by step, describe, in a familiar way, the process of experimental and practical religion.

For sale by Waite, Peirce & Co.

HARPER'S ILLUMINATED BIBLE.

We have received Nos. 47 and 54, inclusive, of this splendid work. Some of the last numbers contain illuminated title-pages to the Old and New Testaments, Family Record of Marriages, Births and Deaths, and a full Concordance.

ANECDOTES FOR THE FAMILY. Published by the American Tract Society. The anecdotes are 308 in number, and arranged under the following heads :Delightful Discoveries - Providential Deliverance-Irreligion and Sins-Reproofs Instruction - Conversion Religion-Love-Duties-Intercourse

Kindness-Deaths and Miscellaneous.

A delightful book, with which to use up the fragments of time in a family, instead of wasting them in profitless conversation.

For sale at 28 Cornhill.

SACRED MEDITATIONS.

A beautiful miniature volume, by Mrs. Professor Upham, of Bowdoinham, Me. The paragraphs are headed by a passage of scripture and closed by a few choice stanzas of poetry. The religious instruction inculcated is of a highly spiritual

character.

Published and for sale by Waite, Peirce & Co.

VOYAGES IN THE ARCTIC REGIONS.

This is the 13th volume of Harper's New Miscellany. The work is the production of Sir John Barrow.

We rarely announce the publication of a book of equal interest to this. It contains, in a condensed form, an account of all the voyages and travels of Ross, Buchan, Parry, Clavering and Sabine, Lyon, Back, Simpson, Franklin and Richardson, in search of a Northwest passage, the discovery of which would be of immense importance to the commercial interests of Great Britain and the United States of America.

A large map of the arctic regions, containing all the discoveries of the abovenamed commanders, accompanies the work.

For sale as above.

LOVEST THOU ME: or the Believer's Companion in his hour of self-examination. By Rev. Daniel Wise. Boston. Published by Waite, Peirce & Co. 1846. Intended to aid the Christian in the important duty of self-examination, and admirably adapted to this purpose. A vein of genuine and ardent piety runs through its interesting pages, and highly commends it to the attention of every disciple desirous of 'growing in grace and the knowledge of the truth.'

It is a miniature volume, and designed as a vade mecum, or book for the pocket.

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