equiem of their death.

The desert-fields, tho' bleak and bare,
Seem lovely through the sun-lit air;
The very shades are glowing bright
Beneath the golden mellow light.

Rejoicing in their freedom still,
On cultured field and pastur'd hill,
The cattle crops the fading grass,
And bless the moments as they pass.

The ploughman and his trusty team
More happy and contented seem,
From golden rays the furrow'd field
A golden harvest yet may yield.

From bough to bough in yonder wood
The squirrel frisks in happy mood,
While searching round in hopes to find
That some few nuts are left behind.

The summer-birds that yearly fly
To yonder Southern sunny sky,
Are hovering round on lingering wing,
And fancy 'tis returning Spring.

While these sweet hours are gliding by,
How calmly smiles the solemn sky,
With golden hues of radiance bright,
As if it were the cream of light.

It seems as if an angel's wing
Had wafted back the breath of Spring,
To animate the ling'ring breath
Of Autumn on the bed of death.

Or from the rays of heavenly dews
Had gilt the earth in rainbow hues,
And o'er the sky so gently flung
The air that once o'er Eden hung.

'Tis but the calm before the storm;
The flush of earth's consumptive form;
The hopeful smile, the fever'd breath,
Before the stern approach of death.

THE SHADOW OF THE HOUSEHOLD.

There is a sympathy in love
We bear for those who mourn,
Whose shadows of departed joys
With every thought return.
'Tis hard to stem the stream of grief
That floods the parents' heart
When death unvails embosom'd hopes,
And throws its fatal dart.

The nursling of a mother's love,
That nestles on her breast,
Is but a life, celestial gift,
By God's own seal impress'd.
And when its prattling lips rejoice
In innocent delight
The parents' love and cherish'd hope,
With tenfold power unite.

Anticipated prospects rise
From hope's enchanted dreams,
Converting life's prospective skies
From shade to sunny beams,
But oft, alas, those fancied hopes
Are in the bud destroy'd;
The cherished gift is pluckt away
And leaves a lonely void.

Its lovely form returns to earth,
Its spirit soars to bliss;
Tho' destin'd to