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ADDRESS TO A DYING FRIEND.
She has knocked, she has entered ! blest spirit,
farewell ! We rejoice in thy bliss, though our loss we
deplore : It is joy that thou art where the blessed ones
dwell ; But, oh! it is grief we behold thee no more !
HEN some beloveds, 'neath whose eyelids lay
Did leave me dark before the natural sun,
MRS. E. B. BROWNING. 160
RIENDS of faces unknown and a land
Unvisited over the sea,
Who tell me how lonely you stand, With a single gold curl in the hand Held
to be looked at by me,
While you ask me to ponder and say
What a father and mother can do, With the bright fellow-locks put away Out of reach, beyond kiss, in the clay
Where the violets press nearer than you.
Shall I speak like a poet, or run
Into weak woman's tears for relief?
arm's round my own little son, And Love knows the secret of Grief.
ONLY A CURL.
“God lent him and takes him," you sigh ;
-Nay, there let me break with your pain :
That He ever can take back again.
He gives what He gives. I appeal
To all who bear babes in the hour
The motherhood's advent in power,
And the babe cries !-has each of us known
By apocalypse (God being there
Through all changes, all times, everywhere.
He's ours and for ever. Believe,
O father !—0 mother! look back To the first love's assurance.
To give Means with God not to tempt or deceive
With a cup thrust in Benjamin's sack.
ONLY A CURL.
He gives what He gives. Be content !
He resumes nothing given,-be sure !
And scourged away all those impure.
He lends not; but gives to the end,
If it seem That He draws back a gift, comprehend 'Tis to add to it rather,--amend,
And finish it up to your dream,
Or keep,-as a mother will toys
Too costly, though given by herself, Till the room shall be stiller from noise, And the children more fit for such joys,
Kept over their heads on the shelf.
So, look up, friends ! you, who indeed
Have possessed in your house a sweet piece Of the heaven which men strive for, must need Be more earnest than others arem-speed
Where they loiter, persist where they cease.