Pray, who hasn't felt as they've sat sad an lonely,
They'd give all they possessed for the wings ov a dove,
To fly far away, just to catch a seet only
Ov th' friends o' ther childhood, the friends 'at they love.
Hope may fill the breast when some old spot we're leavin,
Bright prospects may lure us throo th' dear land away,
But it's joy o' returnin at sets one's breast heavin,
It's th' hopes ov a welcome back maks us feel gay.

Long miles yo may trudge ovver moor, heath, or mire,
Till yor legs seem to totter, an th' stummack feels faint;
But yor thowts still will dwell o' that breet cottage fire,
Till yo feel quite refreshed bi th' fancies yo paint.
An when yo draw nearer, an ovver th' old palins
Yo see smilin faces 'at welcome yo back,
Ther's an end to being weary! away wi complainin's!
Yo leeave all yor troubles behind on yor track.

Then if ther's sich joy in a welcome receivin,
Let us ivvery one try sich a pleasure to gain;
An bi soothin' fowk's cares, an ther sorrows relievin,
Let us bind em all to us, wi' friendship's strong chain.
Let us love an be loved! let's be kind an forgivin,
An then if fate forces us far from awr hooam,
We shall still throughout life have the joy o' receivin
A tear when we part, an a smile when we come.

Still true to Nell.

Th' sun wor settin,--red an gold,
Wi splendor paintin th' west,
An purplin tints throo th' valley roll'd,
As daan he sank to rest.
Yet dayleet lingered looath to leeav
A world soa sweet an fair,
Wol silent burds a pathway cleave,
Throo th' still an slumb'rin air.

Aw stroll'd along a country rooad,
Hedged in wi thorn an vine;
Which wild flower scents an shadows broad,
Converted to a shrine.
As twileet's deeper curtains fell
Aw sat mi daan an sighed;
Mi thowts went back to th' time when Nell,
Had rambled bi mi side.

Aw seemed to hear her voice agean,
Soft whisperin i' mi ear,
Recallin things 'at once had been,
When th' futur all wor clear.
When love,--pure, honest, youthful love
Had left us nowt to crave;
An fancies full ov bliss we wove;--
Alas! Nell's in her grave.

Oh, Nell! I' that fair hooam ov thine,
Whear all is breet an pure,---
Say,--is ther room for love like mine?
Can earthborn love endure?
Do angels' hearts past vows renew,
To mortals here who dwell?
It must be soa;--if my heart's true,
Aw cannot daat thee, Nell.

It's weel we cannot see beyond
That curtain Deeath lets fall