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Brighten’d and dimm'd like a varying glass,
As shadow or sunbeam chance to pass;-
I would not be
A leaf on yonder aspen tree.
It is not because the autumn sere
Would change my merry guise and cheer-
That soon, full soon, nor leaf, nor stem,
Sunlight would gladden, or dewdrop gem,
That I, with my fellows, must fall to earth,
Forgotten our beauty and breezy mirth,
Or else on the bough where all had grown,
Must linger on, and linger alone;—
Might life be an endless summer's day,
And I be for ever green and gay,
I would not be, I would not be,
A leaf on yonder aspen tree!

Proudly spoken, heart of mine,
Yet weakness and change perchance are thine,
More, and darker and sadder to see,
Than befall the leaves of yonder tree'
What if they flutter—their life is a dance;
Or toy with the sunbeam—they live in his glance;
To bird, breeze, and insect rustle and jí
Never the same, never mute, never still,—
Emblems of all that is fickle and gay,
But leaves in their birth, but leaves in decay—
Chide them not—heed them not—spirit away!
In to thyself, to thine own hidden shrine,
What there dost thou worship ! What deem'st thou
divine !
Thy hopes, are they steadfast, and holy and high
Are o built on a rock? Are they raised to the

Thy deep secret yearnings, oh! whither lo they,
To the triumphs of earth, to the toys of a day?— .

Thy friendships and feelings, doth impulse prevail,
To make them, and mar them, as wind swells the

sal - * Thy life's ruling passion—thy being's first aimwhat are they? and yield they contentmentorshame?


Spirit, proud spirit, ponder thy state;

jothine the .'s #. #: thine the leaf's fate:
It may flutter, and glisten, and wither, and die,
And heed not our pity, and ask not our sigh;
But for thee, the immortal, no winter may throw
Eternal repose on thy joy, or thy woe:
Thou must live, and live ever, in glory or gloom,
Beyond the world's precincts, beyond the dark tomb.
Look to thyself then, ere past is Hope's reign,
And looking and longing alike are in vain;
Lest thou deem it a bliss to have been or to be
But a fluttering leafon yon aspen tree!



WE have been friends together,
In sunshine and in shade;
Since first beneath the chestnut trees
In infancy we play’d.

But coldness 3. within my heart,
A cloud is on my brow;
We have been friends together—
Shall a light word part us now? -

We have been gay together:
We have laugh’d at little jests;
For the fount of hope was gushing
Warm and joyous in our breasts.
But laughter now hath fled thy lip,
And sullen glooms thy brow;
We have been gay together—
Shall a light word part us now? .

We have been sad o
We have wept with bitter tears,

O'er the grass-grown graves, where slumber'd
The hopes of early years.

The voices which are silent there
Would bid thee clear thy brow;
We have been sad together—
Oh! what shall part us now
HoN. MRs. Norton.


I have a high sense of the virtue and dignity of the female character; and would not, by any means, be thought to attribute to the ladies emphatically, the fault here spoken of. But I have remarked it in some of my friends, who, in all but this, were among the loveliest of their sex. In such, the blemish is more distinct and striking, because so strongly contrasted with the superior delicacy and loveliness of their natures.

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"Twas not upon the bended knee,
With soul upraised to heaven,

Pleading with heartfelt agony,
That she might be forgiven.

"Twas not in heavenly strains to raise
To the great Source of good

Her daily offering of praise,
Her song of gratitude.

But in the gay and one- crowd,
And in the festive hall,

"Mid scenes of mirth and mockery proud,
She named the Lord of All-

She call'd upon that awful name,
When laughter loudest rang—

Or when the flush of triumph came—
Or disappointment's pang!

The idlest thing that flattery knew,
e most unmeaning jest,
From those sweet lips profanely drew
Names of the Holiest!

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YEs, dear one, to the envied train
Of those around thy homage pay;
But wilt thou never kindly deign
To think of him that's #. away?
To form, thine eye, thine angel smile,
or many years I may not see;
But wilt thou not sometimes the while,
My sister dear, remember me?

But not in Fashion's brilliant hall,
Surrounded by the gay and fair,
And thou the fairest of them all,—
O, think not, think not of me there.
But when the thoughtless crowd is gone,
And hush'd the voice of senseless glee,
And all is silent, still and lone,
And thou art sad, remember me.

Remember me—but, loveliest, ne'er,
When, in his orbit fair and high,

The morning's glowing charioteer
Rides proudly up the blushing sky;

But when the waning moon-beam sleeps
At moon-light on that lonely lea,

And nature's pensive spirit weeps
In all her dews, remember me.

Remember me, I pray—but not
In Flora's gay and blooming hour,
When every brake hath found its note,
And sunshine smiles in every flower;
But when the falling leaf is sear,
And withers sadly from the tree,
And o'er the ruins of the year
Cold Autumn weeps, remember me.

Remember me, but choose not, dear,
The hour when, on the gentle lake,
The sportive wavelets, blue and clear,
Soft rippling, to the margin break;
But when the deaf'ning billows soam
In madness o'er the pathless sea,
Then let thy pilgrim fancy roam
Across them, and remember me.

so Remember me—but not to join If haply some thy friends should praise; 'Tis far too dear, that voice of thine To echo what the stranger says. They know us not—but shouldst thou meet Some faithful friend of me and thee, Softly, sometimes, to him repeat My name, and then remember me.

Remember me—not, I entreat,
In scenes of festal week-day joy,
For then it were not kind or meet,
The thought thy pleasure should alloy;
But on the sacred, solemn day,
And, dearest, on thy bended knee,
When thou for those thou lov'st dost pray,
Sweet spirit, then remember me.

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