Changeless amid her changes, still the same
As when the bloom of Eden round her hung;
When unto man the forests' monarchs came,
And birds unconscious of his presence sung.

How with a thoughtful care doth Nature place
Her cooling hands upon the care-worn brow,
And bid the weary eyes new beauty trace,

And give the weary heart new joy to know.

SPRING.

Come, gentle Spring! a thousand years ago

Eyes waited for thy steps even as now,

And watched to see thee fling from bough to bough Thy drapery of leaves, thy blooms of snow.

Even as now the Robin's cheerful song

Told of the Earth awaking from her dreams,
Bright, flower-crowned, bending over rippling streams,
Viewing her face hid by the ice vail long.

Even as now, upon the brown hill's side
Where timid flowers peeped from the new-warmed ground
Came little feet, like rain-drops patt'ring round;

And bright eyes searching where a bud might hide.

So shall it be a thousand years to come,

When we and all we love have passed from earth :The same familiar flowers shall deck the turf,

And in their honeyed cells the bees shall hum;

The bird's soft warbling note shall welcome Spring, The Earth awaking shall again resume

Her robe of green, shall burst her darksome tomb, The icy cerements that round her cling,—

And all forgetful of her winter's sleep
With rosy face shall rise to joy and song!
So we immortals, 'mid God's happy throng
No record of our earth life then shall keep !

TO THE SNOW.

Emblem of Purity ! softly descending,
Decking the waiting Earth e'en as a bride;
Weaving her veil so white,

See how the snow-flakes light

Cover her cheeks where the roses must hide.

Busily falling in valley and glen,

Mimicking summer's bud, blossom and leaf;

Jewels they form so bright,

Glitt'ring in sun and light;

Neatly they braid and plat Earth's bridal wreath.

Emblem of Purity ! softly descending,
Visit our earth awhile soon to return—

Spotless to reach the sky,

Bearing no stain on high,—

Would that from thee, we a lesson might learn.

Wandering through vice and sin though our frail steps

have been,

Still would our spirit long, long to be free;
Shaking off earthly dross,

God-like beneath its cross,

Would it rise stainless and heavenward with thee!

OLD AGE.

When earthly shades are falling fast,
And age doth take us by the hand,

Let no regretful thoughts be cast

Upon the years our lives have spanned.

What though Spring hung her blossoms there
With song of bird, and skies were blue!
We seek to find a land more fair;

We list to hear a song more true.

Though Summer skies were joyous, bright,
Each floating cloud a shadow cast;

A sorrow dwelt with each delight;

Why should we mourn that they are past?

When Autumn drops her leaves to earth,
Each wind-borne seed a message bears,

A herald of that higher birth

Which man with nature kindly shares.

Then let old age its winter bring

And deck man's forehead with its snow; The child-like heart still finds its Spring, And life's last hours with beauty glow.

THE ENGLISH SPARROWS.

Around our streets they gather

With their merry chirping noise;

No matter what the weather,
They have their little joys.

They run, they fly, they twitter,

Where the kind hand drops the crumbs; We welcome them with gladness

For the lesson of love that comes.

When the Summer's blush has vanished,
And the wild-flowers say "Good Bye-"
When the joyous summer songsters
To a home far southward fly ;—

When the grass doth close its fingers
That welcome the butterfly,
And the wild-bee no more lingers
Where the withered clovers lie.

Ah! then, we welcome the sparrows,
The hardy, chirping crew.
Where the winter sun his arrows

Far up in the tree-tops threw.

It lit up the tiny houses.

That kind hands placed on high;

But the thoughts in the hearts that placed them,
Were nearer the arching sky.

Oh! who could harm the sparrows,
A merry, chirping throng?
Or who could hope for a blessing
That did the birds a wrong?

THOUGHTS.

One day the less-doth nature never tire
Spreading her flowers before ungrateful eyes?
Doth the bird thank her from each floral spire
When earth renews her springtime mysteries?

Doth God grow weary that we prize not life
When griefs' dark clouds hang low, surcharged
with tears?

Or when the soul, with eager longings rife,
Stretches its arms out to the eternal years?

Do they who in the present float along,

Like withered leaves upon a summer streamDo they bear with them e'er the wild bird's song? The golden memory of an early dream?

Oh! eager quest this earth can never hold!

Oh! boundless longings earth can never stay! What save the Love Divine can e'er enfold,

And lead the pilgrim soul its native way?