SENECA LAKE. BY H. PICKERING. EREWHILE, O beauteous lake! a minstrel stood Breathed forth undying strains. And now the humblest of the tuneful throng And warblings of his lute. Translucent flood! within thy ever pure And stainless breast, the heavens with wonder view As beautiful a heaven As tranquil and serene. And round thy ample brim extend smooth glades, And shadowy groves and flowers and pendent vines, And, mantled o'er with woods, Soft undulating hills. And though o'er thy bright marge no frowning cliffs Impend―no craggy mountains, as with wall Insuperable, fence Thee from the northern blast Yet thou, disdainful, mock'st its utmost force, Furious he sweeps along, But may not chain thy wave. And still with each return of spring thou smilest, And seest new beauties deck thy soft domain: And when from summer's gaze The earth dejected shrinks, Thou spread'st thy dazzling bosom to the sun: While pleased, anon, with autumn's rainbow tints And mournful shell, thou bidd'st Thy waves mild music make. In that soft hour when, leading up the day, In snowy mist art wrapt How have I stood, enchanted, to behold Thy charms again unveil! And when upon his evening couch, the lord In thy unruffled flood How have I pensive fix'd my eyes on thee, And wish'd that on my breast a heavenly gleam Might fall, and thus within My soul as softly sink! Yet if there be a more propitious hour, 'Tis when the moon from out the pearly east In chasten'd splendour beams, And sheds o'er thee, and o'er The tranquil earth, her mild and holy light: A pleasing sadness steals. the eve O fond remembrance! say, what boots it now To sing of absent charms? The morn, Return; but thee, sweet lake, I must not see again! Yet brighter eyes, and innocent as bright, And science, haply, on thy banks shall rear In lofty verse thy praise. THE LAMENT OF THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. BY MRS. EMMA C. EMBURY. THE fearful strife of feeling now is o'er, All thought of self is waking, till its power Yes! for thy sake I can resign e'en thee, Yet not one murmur of reproach shall swell, I loved thee in thy lowliness-ere fame |