And eyes half veil'd, in thine own soul absorb'd, That once around thee hung, have melted now And dearer, and yet lovelier in mine eyes, Than all that summer flush! For by my couch, Thou hast made those rich hues and sunny smiles But how much rests unbreathed! my faithful one! The dear work grows Beneath my hand,—the last! Teresa, (falling on his neck in tears.) Eugene, Eugene Break not my heart with thine excess of love!— Oh! must I loose thee-thou that hast been still The tenderest-best Let Eugene. Weep, weep not thus, beloved! my true heart o'er thine retain its power Of soothing to the last !-Mine own Teresa! Take strength from strong affection!- Let our souls, Ere this brief parting, mingle in one strain Of deep, full thanksgiving, for God's rich boon- And lay thy hands in mine. [She kneels beside the couch—he Oh, thus receive prays. Thy children's thanks, Creator! for the love Which thou hast granted, through all earthly woes, To spread heaven's peace around them; which hath bound Their spirits to each other and to thee, With links whereon unkindness ne'er hath breathed, Nor wandering thought. We thank thee, gracious God! For all its treasured memories! tender cares, Fond words, bright, bright sustaining looks, un changed Through tears and joy. O Father! most of all To spirit radiance from all earthly stain ; MOTHER'S LITANY BY THE SICKBED SAVIOUR, that of woman born, Thou, with whose last anguish strove Low he lies, my precious child, From its gladsome tasks and play, Pain sits heavy on his brow, E'en though slumber seal it now; ( Round his lip is quivering strife, Saviour! loose the burning chain Hear and aid! Thou that said'st, "Awake, arise!" Yet, oh! make him thine, all thine, NIGHT HYMN AT SEA. THE WORDS WRITTEN FOR A MELODY BY FELTON. NIGHT sinks on the wave, Through the gloom are flying. Thou, in heaven unsleeping, O'er thy children vigil keeping, Hear, hear, and save! Stars look o'er the sea, Few, and sad, and shrouded; Faith our light must be, When all else is clouded. Thou, whose voice came thrilling, Wind and billow stilling, Speak once more! our prayer fulfilling- FEMALE CHARACTERS OF SCRIPTURE. A SERIES OF SONNETS. * "Your tents are desolate; your stately steps, All the fresh glories of the early world I. INVOCATION. As the tired voyager on stormy seas Invokes the coming of bright birds from shore, To waft him tidings, with the gentler breeze, Of dim sweet woods that hear no billows roar; * Suggested by the perusal of Mrs Sandford's Woman. |