rol be poured forth no more,
Oh why when the Sabbath bell's pleasantest tone
Wakes the soul of devotion in song to rejoice,
Are thy features with sorrow o'erclouded alone,
While no sounds but of sadness are heard from thy voice?

Listen, while I tell thee, stranger!
In a brief and hurried measure:
Though my soul drink not of pleasure,
Though mine eyes be sunk in gloom;
Tis not from fear of coming danger,
Nor yet from dread of doom.

The youngest leaves must fall,
When summer beams have ceased to play;
And may not sorrow spread her pall,
When joy, and hope, and love decay?
Earth's loveliest scenes;
The boons of heaven most cherished;
Fields dressed in gladdening greens,
Are drear, when hope has perished:
Spring's beauteousness,
Followed by summer's glory,
May fade without the power to bless,
As doth a dreamed story.

It gives me peace to gaze at even,
Watching the latest, faintest gleam
Of yon bright traveler of heaven,
Reflected in the silver stream;
For she I love has gently leaned--
While my fond heart with bliss was swelling--
Upon my arm, to see descend
That brilliant star in light excelling.

The chiming bells give joy no more,
Long since the tones have lost their sweetness;
They now but wake me to deplore
The bliss that fled with air-like fleetness.
Blame not my sorrow: chilling pride
Nor clouds my brow nor kills the smile;
For loss of wealth I never sighed,
But all for her I mourn the while.
She was my all, my fairest, dearest, best;
I loved--I lost her--tears may speak the rest.

ELSIE.

BY KATE DASHWOOD.

A young white rose-bud--with its leaves
Just blown apart, and wet with dew--
A fair child in a garland weaves
'Mid glowing flowers of every hue.
She sitteth by the rushing river,
While the soft and balmy air
Scarce stirs the starry flowers that quiver
Amid her sunny hair--
Thou of the laughing eyes! 'mid all
The roses of thy coronal--
Thou'rt fairest of the fair.

Ah, bright young dreamer! may thy heart
In its early freshness ever be
Pure as the leaves--just blown apart--
Of the rose thou'rt wreathing in childish glee.
Ah, well I know those flowers tho