[1] An alder growing from the bent branch of a pear-tree.

_TO ELLEN._ "_SING ME THAT SONG!_"

Sing me that song! My spirit is sad,
Life's pulses move fitful and slow;
A meeting with loved ones in dreams I have had,
Whose robes were as spotless as snow:
A phantom of joy, it fled with the light,
And left but a parting in air.
My soul is enchained to life's dreary night,
O sing me "Sweet hour of prayer"!

Ah, sleep, twin sister of death and of night!
My thoughts 'neath thy drap'ry still lie.
Alas! that from dreams so boundless and bright
We waken to life's dreary sigh.
Those moments most sweet are fleetest alway,
For love claspeth earth's raptures not long,
Till darkness and death like mist melt away,
To rise to a seraph's new song.

O'er ocean or Alps, the stranger who roams
But gathers a wreath for his bier;
For life hath its music in low minor tones,
And _man_ is the cause of its tear.
But drops of pure nectar our brimming cup fill,
When we walk by that murmuring stream;
Or when, like the thrill of that mountain rill,
Your songs float in memory's dream.

Sweet spirit of love, at soft eventide
Wake gently the chords of her lyre,
And whisper of one who sat by her side
To join with the neighboring choir;
And tell how that heart is silent and sad,
No melody sweeps o'er its strings!
'Tis breaking alone, but a young heart and glad--
Might cheer it, perchance, when she sings.

Lynn, Mass., _August 25, 1866_.

_LINES, ON VISITING PINE GROVE CEMETERY_

Ah, why should the brief bliss of life's little day
Grow cold in this spot as the spiritless clay,
And thought be at work with the long-buried hours,
And tears be bedewing these fresh-smiling flowers!

Ah, wherefore the memory of dear ones deemed dead
Should bow thee, as winds bow the tall willow's head!
Beside you they walk while you weep, and but pass
From your sight as the shade o'er the dark wavy grass.

The cypress may mourn with her evergreen tears,
And, like the blue hyacinth, change not with years;
Yea, flowers of feeling may blossom above,
To yield earth the fragrance of goodness and love;

So one heart is left me--she breathes in my ear,
"I'm living to bless thee; for this are we here."
And when this sweet pled