[Ill.u.s.tration: The Rainbow Bridge]

Love and Hope and Youth, together-- Travelling once in stormy weather, Met a deep and gloomy tide, Flowing swift and dark and wide.

'Twas named the river of Despair,-- And many a wreck was floating there!

The urchins paused, with faces grave, Debating how to cross the wave, When lo! the curtain of the storm Was severed, and the rainbow's form Stood against the parting cloud-- Emblem of peace on trouble's shroud!

Hope pointed to the signal flying, And the three, their shoulders plying, O'er the stream the light arch threw-- A rainbow bridge of loveliest hue!

Now, laughing as they tripped it o'er, They gayly sought the other sh.o.r.e: But soon the hills began to frown, And the bright sun went darkly down.

Though their step was light and fleet, The rainbow vanished 'neath their feet,-- And down they went,--the giddy things!

But Hope put forth his ready wings,-- And clinging Love and Youth he bore In triumph to the other sh.o.r.e.

But ne'er I ween should mortals deem On rainbow bridge to cross a stream, Unless bright, buoyant Hope is nigh, And, light with Love and Youth, they fly!

The Rival Bubbles.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Rival Bubbles]

Two bubbles on a mountain stream, Began their race one shining morn, And lighted by the ruddy beam, Went dancing down 'mid shrub and thorn.

The stream was narrow, wild and lone, But gayly dashed o'er mound and rock, And brighter still the bubbles shone, As if they loved the whirling shock.

Each leaf, and flower, and sunny ray, Was pictured on them as they flew, And o'er their bosoms seemed to play In lovelier forms and colors new.

Thus on they went, and side by side, They kept in sad and sunny weather, And rough or smooth the flowing tide, They brightest shone when close together.

Nor did they deem that they could sever, That clouds could rise, or morning wane; They loved, and thought that love for ever Would bind them in its gentle chain.

But soon the mountain slope was o'er, And 'mid new scenes the waters flowed, And the two bubbles now no more With their first morning beauty glowed.

They parted, and the sunny ray That from each other's love they borrowed; That made their dancing bosoms gay, While other bubbles round them sorrowed:

That ray was dimmed, and on the wind A shadow came, as if from Heaven; Yet on they flew, and sought to find From strife, the bliss that love had given.

They parted, yet in sight they kept, And rivals now the friends became, And if, perchance, the eddies swept Them close, they flashed with flame.

And fiercer forward seemed to bound, With the swift ripples toward the main; And all the lesser bubbles round, Each sought to gather in its train.

They strove, and in that eager strife Their morning friendship was forgot, And all the joys that sweeten life, The rival bubbles knew them not.

The leaves, the flowers, the gra.s.sy sh.o.r.e, Were all neglected in the chase, And on their bosoms now no more These forms of beauty found a place.

But all was dim and drear within, And envy dwelt where love was known, And images of fear and sin Were traced, where truth and pleasure shone.

The clouds grew dark, the tide swelled high, And gloom was o'er the waters flung, But riding on the billows, nigh Each other now the bubbles swung.

Closer and closer still they rushed, In anger o'er the rolling river; They met, and 'mid the waters crushed, The rival bubbles burst for ever!

Good Night.

The sun has sunk behind the hills, The shadows o'er the landscape creep; A drowsy sound the woodland fills, And nature folds her arms to sleep: Good night--good night.

The chattering jay has ceased his din-- The noisy robin sings no more-- The crow, his mountain haunt within, Dreams 'mid the forest's surly roar: Good night--good night.

The sunlit cloud floats dim and pale; The dew is falling soft and still; The mist hangs trembling o'er the vale, And silence broods o'er yonder mill: Goodnight--good night.

The rose, so ruddy in the light, Bends on its stem all rayless now, And by its side the lily white A sister shadow, seems to bow: Good night--good night.

The bat may wheel on silent wing-- The fox his guilty vigils keep-- The boding owl his dirges sing; But love and innocence will sleep: Good night--good night!

The Mississippi.[A]

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Mississippi]

I.

Far in the West, where snow-capt mountains rise, Like marble shafts beneath Heaven's stooping dome, And sunset's dreamy curtain drapes the skies, As if enchantment there would build her home-- O'er wood and wave, from haunts of men away-- From out the glen, all trembling like a child, A babbling streamlet comes as if to play-- Albeit the scene is savage, lone and wild.

Here at the mountain's foot, that infant wave 'Mid bowering leaves doth hide its rustic birth-- Here learns the rock and precipice to brave-- And go the Monarch River of the Earth!

Far, far from hence, its bosom deep and wide, Bears the proud steamer on its fiery wing-- Along its banks, bright cities rise in pride, And o'er its breast their gorgeous image fling.

The Mississippi needs no herald now-- But here within this glen unknown to fame, It flows content--a bubble on its brow, A leaf upon its breast--without a name!

[Ill.u.s.tration: Banks of the Mississippi]

II.

Strange contrasts here--for on the glacier's height, The tempest raves, and arrowy lightnings leap-- Yet deep beneath, the wild flowers lone and light, On slender stems in breezeless silence sleep.

Skyward the racing eagles wildly fling Their savage clamor to the echoing dell-- While sheltered deep, the bee with folded wing, Voluptuous slumbers in his fragrant cell.

Around, the splintered rocks are heaped to heaven, With grisly caverns yawning wide between, As if the t.i.tans there had battle given, And left their ruin written on the scene!

Yet o'er these ghastly shapes, soft lichens wind, And timid daisies droop, and tranquil flowers A robe of many-colored beauty, bind, As if some vagrant fairy claimed these bowers.

III.

Fit cradle this--Majestic Stream, for thee!

Nursed at the glacier's foot--by tempests fed-- The lightning flashing o'er thy canopy, And thunders pealing round thine infant bed-- The pious Indian marks thy mystic birth, 'Mid storm and cloud, and nature's aspect wild-- And wondering, deems thee not a thing of earth, But great Manitto's fair and favored child.