A GIRL'S DAY DREAM AND ITS FULFILMENT.

"Child of my love, why wearest thou That pensive look and thoughtful brow?

Can'st gaze abroad on this world so fair And yet thy glance be fraught with care?

Roses still bloom in glowing dyes, Sunshine still fills our summer skies, Earth is still lovely, nature glad-- Why dost thou look so lone and sad?"

"Ah! mother it once sufficed thy child To cherish a bird or flow'ret wild; To see the moonbeams the waters kiss, Was enough to fill her heart with bliss; Or o'er the bright woodland stream to bow, But these things may not suffice her now."

"Perhaps 'tis music thou seekest, child?

Then list the notes of the song birds wild, The gentle voice of the mountain breeze, Whispering among the dark pine trees, The surge sublime of the sounding main, Or thy own loved lute's soft silvery strain."

"Mother, there's music sweeter I know Than bird's soft note or than ocean's flow, Vague to me yet as sounds of a dream, Yet dearer, brighter than sunshine's gleam; Such is the music I fain would hear, All other sounds but tire mine ear!"

"Ah! thou seekest then a loving heart, That in all thy griefs will bear a part, That shelter will give in doubt and fear, Come to me, loved one, thou'lt find it here!"

"Sweet mother, I almost fear to speak, And remorseful blushes dye my cheek, For though thou'st watched me from childhood's hour, As thou would'st have done a precious flower, Though I love thee still as I did of yore, Yet this weak heart seeketh something more:

A bliss as yet to my life unknown, A heart whose throbs will be all mine own, The tender tones of a cherished voice, Of him who shall be my heart's first choice; And who at my feet alone shall bow, This, this is the dream that haunts me now."

"Alas, poor child, has it come to this?

Then bid farewell to thy childhood's bliss, To thy girlhood's bright unfettered hours, Thy sunny revels 'mid birds and flowers; Of the golden zone yield up each strand To cling to a hope, unstable as sand, And forget the joys thy youth hath wove In the stormy doubts of human love, The feverish hopes and wearing pain That form the links of Love's bright chain!"

Alas! the mother spoke in vain!

The girl's dream was soon fulfilled, Her hopes by no dark cloud were chilled; A lover ardent, n.o.ble too, With flashing eyes of jetty hue, With voice like music, sweet and soft, Such as her dreams had pictured oft, Now at her feet, a suppliant bowed, And love eternal, changeless vowed.

Listening, then, with glowing cheek, And rapture which no words might speak, She thought, with bright and joyous smile, They erred who thus could love revile, Or say it had many a dark alloy,-- Had it not proved a dream of joy?

But, alas for her! she learned too soon That love is fleeting as rose of June, That her eyes might shine with olden light, And yet be found no longer bright; That she might devoted, faithful prove, Yet her lover grow weary of her love.

Many an hour of silent tears, Of heart-sick doubts, of humbling fears, Of angry regrets, were hers, before Her heart would say, "He loves no more."

Weary of life and its th.o.r.n.y ways, She sought the friend of her early days: "Mother, I bring thee a breaking heart, In sorrows deep it hath borne a part; Speak to me tenderly as of yore, Let thy kiss rest on my brow once more; To the joys of my girlhood back I flee, To live alone for them and for thee!"

TO A YOUNG MOTHER ON THE BIRTH OF HER FIRST-BORN CHILD.

Young mother! proudly throbs thine heart, and well may it rejoice, Well may'st thou raise to Heaven above in grateful prayer thy voice: A gift hath been bestowed on thee, a gift of priceless worth, Far dearer to thy woman's heart than all the wealth of earth.

What store of deep and holy joy is opened to thy thought-- Glad, sunny dreams of future days, with bliss and rapture fraught; Of hopes as varied, yet as bright, as beams of April sun, And plans and wishes centred all within thy darling one!

While others seek in changing scenes earth's happiness to gain, In fashion's halls to win a joy as dazzling as 'tis vain-- A bliss more holy far is thine, far sweeter and more deep, To watch beside thine infant's couch and bend above his sleep.

What joy for thee to ling'ring gaze within those cloudless eyes, Turning upon thee with a glance of such sweet, strange surprise, Or press a mother's loving kiss upon that fair, white brow, Of all earth's weight of sin and care and pain unconscious now.

Then, as thy loved one's sleeping breath so softly fans thy cheek, And gazing on that tiny form, so lovely, yet so weak, A dream comes o'er thee of the time when n.o.bly at thy side Thy cherished son shall proudly stand, in manhood's lofty pride.

Yet a sad change steals slowly o'er thy tender, loving eye, Thou twin'st him closer to thy heart, with fond and anxious sigh, Feeling, however bright his course he too must suff'ring know, Like all earth's children taste alike life's cup of care and woe.

But, oh! it lies within thy power to give to him a spell To guard him in the darkest hour from sorrow safe and well; Thou'lt find it in the narrow path the great and good have trod-- And thou thyself wilt teach it him--the knowledge of his G.o.d!

A CHILD'S TREASURES.

Thou art home at last, my darling one, Flushed and tired with thy play, From morning dawn until setting sun Hast thou been at sport away; And thy steps are weary--hot thy brow, Yet thine eyes with joy are bright,-- Ah! I read the riddle, show me now The treasures thou graspest tight.

A pretty pebble, a tiny sh.e.l.l, A feather by wild bird cast, Gay flowers gathered in forest dell, Already withering fast, Four speckled eggs in a soft brown nest, Thy last and thy greatest prize, Such the things that fill with joy thy breast, With laughing light thine eyes.

Ah! my child, what right have I to smile And whisper, too dearly bought, By wand'ring many a weary mile-- Dust, heat, and toilsome thought?

For we, the children of riper years, Task aching heart and brain, Waste yearning hopes and anxious fears On baubles just as vain.

For empty t.i.tle, ribbon or star, For worshipped and much-sought gold, How men will struggle at home--afar-- And suffer toils untold; Plodding their narrow and earth-bound way Amid restless care and strife, Wasting not merely a fleeting day, But the precious years of life.

And thou, fair child, with to-morrow's dawn Wilt rise up calm and glad, To cull wild flowers 'mid wood and lawn, Untroubled by memory sad; But, alas! the worldly-wise of earth, When life's last bonds are riven, Will find that for things of meanest worth They've lost both Life and Heaven.

TO A YOUNG GIRL WITH AN ALb.u.m.

Gentle Lily with this Alb.u.m my warmest wishes take, I know its pages oft thou'lt ope and prize it for my sake, For, though a trifling offering, it bears the magic spell Of coming from the hand of one who loves thee pa.s.sing well.

O could thy young life's course be traced by will or wish of mine, A smiling, joyous future--a bright lot would be thine, No cloud should mar the gladness of thy fair youth's op'ning morn, The roses of thy girlhood should be free from blight or thorn.

Howe'er, 'tis better ordered by a Blessed Power above Who sends us cross and trial, as a token of His Love; For we'd cling, ah! far too closely to earthly joys and ties, Unwilling e'er to leave them for our home beyond the skies.

As the pages of this volume, unwritten, stainless, fair, Life opens out before thee, let it be thine aim and care To keep the record spotless, and ever free from all That thou might'st wish hereafter remorseful to recall.

Not seeking to o'ershadow thy smiling azure eyes, Nor see that girlish bosom heave with sad thoughts and sighs, I would whisper low, while wishing thee, all earthly, cloudless bliss, Be life a preparation for a better life than this!

TIME'S CHANGES IN A HOUSEHOLD.

They grew together side by side, They filled one house with glee Their graves are severed far and wide-- By mountain stream and tree.

Mrs. Hemans

They were as fair and bright a band as ever filled with pride Parental hearts whose task it was children beloved to guide; And every care that love upon its idols bright may shower Was lavished with impartial hand upon each fair young flower.