But when the waning moon-beam sleeps Remember me, I pray-but not Cold Autumn weeps, remember me. Remember me, but choose not, dear, 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. Remember me-but not as I On thee for ever, ever dwell, With anxious heart and drooping eye, And doubts 't would grieve thee should I tell; But in thy calm unclouded heart, Where dark and gloomy visions flee, Oh there, my sister, be my part, And kindly there remember me, EDWARD EVERETT. THE WRECK. ALL night the booming minute-gun The queenly ship! brave hearts had striven, We saw her mighty cable riven, Like floating gossamer; We saw her proud flag struck that morn, A star once o'er the seas, Her helm beat down, her deck uptorn, We saw her treasures cast away; And gold was strewn the wet sands o'er, And gorgeous robes-but, oh! that shore We saw the strong man, still and low, Yet, by that rigid lip and brow, Not without strife he died! And near him on the sea-weed lay, But well our gushing hearts might say, For her pale arms a babe had press'd To wrap the fair child's form, Where still their wet, long streamers clung, All tangled by the storm. And beautiful, 'midst that wild scene, Deep in her bosom lay his head, He had known little of her dread, Oh, human love! whose yearning heart, So stamps upon thy mortal part Its passionate adieu! Surely thou hast another lot, There is some home for thee, Where thou shalt rest, remembering not The moaning of the sea! MRS. HEMANS. THE SUNDAY SCHOOL. GROUP after group are gathering. Such as press'd Oft with a chasten'd glance, in modulation sweet. Yet some there are, upon whose childish brows The "coat of many colours" proves His love, Whose sign is in the heart, and whose reward above. And ye, bless'd labourers in this humble sphere, Come forth to gird the weak, untutor'd mind,— The rest of earthly Sabbaths.-Be your gain A Sabbath without end, 'mid yon celestial plain. MRS. SIGOURNEY. VERSES FOR AN ALBUM. FRESH clad from heaven in robes of white, A young probationer of light, Thou wert, my soul, an Album bright, A spotless leaf; but thought, and care, And time, with heaviest hand of all, And error, gilding worst designs Like speckled snake that strays and slimes- And vice hath left his ugly blot,- And fruitless late remorse doth trace- Disjointed members-sense unknit- My scalded eyes no longer brook CHARLES LAMB A FATHER'S FAREWELL. COME near to me, my gentle girl, Wilt thou be from thy father's blessing. |