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While the true heart pineth
Missing thy face.

Music is sorrowful

Since thou art gone, Sisters are mourning thee,

Come to thine own!

Hark! the home voices call

Back to thy rest;
Come to thy father's hall,
Thy mother's breast!

O'er the far blue mountains,
O'er the white sea foam,
Come, thou long parted one,
Back to thine home!

O THOU BREEZE OF SPRING!'

O THOU breeze of spring!
Gladdening sea and shore,
Wake the woods to sing,

Wake my heart no more!
Streams have felt the sighing
Of thy scented wing,
Let each fount replying
Hail thee, breeze of spring,
Once more!

1 Set to music by John Lodge, Esq.

O'er long buried flowers

Passing not in vain,
Odours in soft showers

Thou hast brought again.
-Let the primrose greet thee,

Let the violet pour

Incense forth to meet thee

Wake my heart no more!
No more!

From a funeral urn

Bower'd in leafy gloom,
Even thy soft return

Calls not song or bloom.
Leave my spirit sleeping
Like that silent thing;
Stir the founts of weeping
There, O breeze of spring,
No more!

COME TO ME, DREAMS OF HEAVEN.

COME to me, dreams of heaven!

My fainting spirit bear

On your bright wings, by morning given,

Up to celestial air.

Away, far, far away,

From bowers by 'tempests riven, Fold me in blue, still, cloudless day, O blessed dreams of heaven!

Come but for one brief hour,

Sweet dreams! and yet again,

O'er burning thought and memory shower Your soft effacing rain!

Waft me where gales divine,

With dark clouds ne'er have striven, Where living founts for ever shineO blessed dreams of heaven!1

GOOD-NIGHT.

DAY is past!

Stars have set their watch at last,
Founts that through the deep woods flow
Make sweet sounds, unheard till now,
Flowers have shut with fading light-
Good-night!

Go to rest!

Sleep sit dove-like on thy breast!
If within that secret cell

One dark form of memory dwell,
Be it mantled from thy sight-

Good-night!

Joy be thine!

Kind looks o'er thy slumbers shine!
Go, and in the spirit-land

Meet thy home's long parted band,

1 Set to music by Miss Graves.
For a melody of Eisenhofer's.

Be their eyes all love and light

Good-night!

Peace to all!

Dreams of heaven on mourners fall!
Exile! o'er thy couch may gleams
Pass from thine own mountain streams;
Bard! away to worlds more bright—
Good-night!

LET HER DEPART.

HER home is far, oh! far away!
The clear light in her eyes
Hath nought to do with earthly day,
'Tis kindled from the skies.

Let her depart!

She looks upon the things of earth,

Even as some gentle star

Seems gazing down on grief or mirth,

How softly, yet how far!
Let her depart!

Her spirit's hope-her bosom's love-
Oh! could they mount and fly!
She never sees a wandering dove,
But for its wings to sigh.

Let her depart!

She never hears a soft wind bear

Low music on its way,

But deems it sent from heavenly air,

For her who cannot stay.

Let her depart!

Wrapt in a cloud of glorious dreams,
She breathes and moves alone,

Pining for those bright bowers and streams
Where her beloved is gone.
Let her depart!

HOW CAN THAT LOVE SO DEEP, SO LONE.

How can that love so deep, so lone,

So faithful unto death,

Thus fitfully in laughing tone,

In airy word, find breath?

Nay, ask how on the dark wave's breast,

The lily's cup may gleam,
Though many a mournful secret rest
Low in the unfathom'd stream.

That stream is like my hidden love,
In its deep cavern's power,
And like the play of words above,
That lily's trembling flower.

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