arth retains one single draught
Of pure and tranquil joy,
Within whose sweet and sparkling wave,
Is mixt no sad alloy;
'Tis here we taste it while we sit,
Beneath our natal tree,
'Tis here it glads our heart of hearts,
O dearest home, with thee.

When we are cast on foreign shores,
Beyond the dark-blue sea,
Sad memory oft returns to weep,
O dearest home, with thee,
And when the knell of death shall come,
And set our spirits free,
Our hearts shall find their sweetest rest,
O dearest home, with thee.

HYMN TO THE FATHER.

Heavenly father, God of mercy,
Look upon a sinful soul;
For, the waves of sad contrition,
Now above me darkly roll.
Ah! my crimes are dark and grievous,
The huge burthen hard to bear;
All the day and night I'm sighing
Whelm'd in grief and dark despair.

Ah! how deeply I have fallen
From my high and happy state,
Where, enrob'd in thy dear image,
Once, in tranquil peace, I sate.
Black with sores, a loathsome leper,
Lo! I wait before Thy throne;
Cans't thou, Maker, wilt thou heal me,
Make me whole and all thine own?

Oh! Thy grace is freely gushing,
Boundless is Thy wondrous Love;
And for all Thy erring children,
Lord, Thy tender bowels move.
Hail! Supreme, Exhaustless Mercy,
Christ hath freed my soul from sin;
And a holy calm comes o'er me,
And a heavenly peace within.

O BIRDIE! SPEAK TO ME.

O Birdie! speak to me,
Speak from thy silent grave;
It doth not roll o'er thee,
Death's dark and Stygian wave!
Sweet! speak, I'm sick, to hear
The heaven of thy voice,
Which wont, while life was dear,
To thrill me and rejoice.

Speak, Birdie! speak to me!
Speak from the flowers which bloom,
Beneath the cedar tree
That hides thy dearest tomb!
Speak, angel! speak to me;
I know thou art not dead,
That the dear soul in thee
But, bird-like, upward sped!

Yes! Birdie! speak to me,
Maid most bright, most dear;
Ask, if I'm true to thee,
Ask if my grief's sincere?
Ask if the warm tears roll
From my devoted heart?
O Birdie! then my soul
In peace shall hence depart.

TO ONE.

I love thee, and my trembling lyre
Will learn no other strain;
I marvel if thy gentle heart
Will ever cease disdain;
I marvel if our future lives,
Will mingle into one,
And glitter like a happy stream,
In an unclouded sun.

I see that mid a wooing throng,
Thou art a central star,
And vying youths, with noble