EVA. In paths where faith alone could see Thine was the seed-time; God alone Yet, unforgotten where it lies, EVA. DRY the tears for holy Eva, Give to earth the tender care. For the golden locks of Eva In the better home of Eva All is light and peace with Eva; Weep no more for happy Eva, Wrong and sin no more shall grieve her; 155 Care and pain and weariness Gentle Eva, loving Eva, O, for faith like thine, sweet Eva, TO FREDRIKA BREMER.17 SEERESS of the misty Norland, Soft as flow of Silja's waters, When the moon of summer shines, Heart and ear, we long have listened By the mansion's marble mantel, Round the log-walled cabin's hearth, Thy sweet thoughts and northern fancies Meet and mingle with our mirth. And, o'er weary spirits keeping Sorrow's night-watch, long and chill, APRIL. Shine they like thy sun of summer We alone to thee are strangers, To our homes and household altars O'er the threshold of the Swede. 157 APRIL. "The spring comes slowly up this way." CHRISTABEL. "Trs the noon of the spring-time, yet never a bird In the wind-shaken elm or the maple is heard; For green meadow-grasses wide levels of snow, And blowing of drifts where the crocus should blow; Where wind-flower and violet, amber and white, On south-sloping brook-sides should smile in the light, O'er the cold winter-beds of their late-waking roots creeps, Unkissed of the sunshine, unbaptized of showers, With buds scarcely swelled, which should burst into flowers! We wait for thy coming, sweet wind of the south! For the touch of thy light wings, the kiss of thy mouth; For the yearly evangel thou bearest from God, All the way from the land of the wild Esquimau,- Renew the great miracle; let us behold The stone from the mouth of the sepulchre rolled, And Nature, like Lazarus, rise, as of old! Let our faith, which in darkness and coldness has lain, Revive with the warmth and the brightness again, STANZAS FOR THE TIMES-1850. THE evil days have come,-the poor Are made a prey; Put out the fire-lights, point no more For Pity now is crime; the chain Is melted at her hearth in twain, STANZAS FOR THE TIMES. 159 Our Union, like a glacier stirred Or bell of kine, or wing of bird, Poor, whispering tremblers !-yet we boast O for the open firmament, The desert hillside, cavern-rent, Than web of Persian loom most rare, Better the rough rock, bleak and bare, I hear a voice: "Thus saith the Law, I hear another voice: "The poor Turn not the outcast from thy door, Dear Lord! between that law and thee |