SOUTHEY. Light. FROM THALABA. How beautiful is night! A dewy freshness fills the silent air, In full-orb'd glory yonder moon divine The desert-circle spreads, Like the round ocean, girdled with the sky! "Love Never Faileth." They sin who tell us love can die: In heaven, ambition cannot dwell, G They perish where they had their birth; Its holy flame for ever burneth, From heaven it came, to heaven returneth; It hath in heaven its perfect rest; WATTS. To a Dear Little Boq, AFTER AN INTERVAL OF ABSENCE. I MISS thee from my side, Oft its curtains peeping through; Thou wert wont to give me then; When 'twas time for bed again! I miss thee from my side, When the dinner bustle's o'er : Or extract the apple's core; I miss thee from my side, I miss thee from my side, When brisk Punch is at the door;Vainly pummels he is bride, Judy's wrongs can charm no more! He beat her till she's sore, may She may flee ; die and he may Though I loved their squalls of yore, What's the pageant now to me! I miss thee from my side When the light of day grows pale; When, with eyelids open'd wide, Thou wouldst list the oft-told tale, And the murder'd babes bewail;- I miss thee from my side In the haunts that late were thine; Where thy twinkling feet would glide, And thy clasping fingers twine;Here are checker'd tumblers nine,Silent relics of thy play ;Here the mimic tea-things shine, Thou wouldst wash the livelong day! Thy drum hangs on the wall; Thy bird-organ sounds are o'er: Dogs and horses, great and smallWanting some a leg or more; Cows and sheep-a motley storeAll are stabled 'neath thy bed; And not one but can restore Memories sweet of him that's fled. I miss thee from my side, Blithe cricket of my hearth! For thy chirping voice of mirth : I miss thee from my side, With thy bright, ingenuous smile- Music. Yes, Music hath the key of memory, And thoughts and visions buried deep and long, MYSTERIOUS keeper of the key The sun-bright hopes of early youth, Croly. To the Enthusiast's heart, thy tone |