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ISLE OF BEAUTY, FARE THEE WELL.

'Tis the hour when happy faces
Smile around the taper's light;-
Who will fill our vacant places?

Who will sing our songs to-night?
Through the mist that floats above us,
Faintly sounds the vesper bell,

Like a voice from those who love us,
Breathing fondly, "Fare thee well!”

When the waves are round me breaking,
As I pace the deck alone,
And my eye in vain is seeking
Some green leaf to rest upon,—
What would I not give to wander
Where my old companions dwell?
Absence makes the heart grow
Isle of Beauty! Fare thee well!

fonder ;

BAYLEY.

Beauty and wit will die, learning will vanish away, and all the arts of life be soon forgotten; but virtue will remain for

ever.

THE BETTER LAND.

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THE BETTER LAND.

I HEAR thee speak of the better land;
Thou calls't its children a happy band;
Mother! Oh where is that radiant shore?
Shall we not seek it and weep no more?
Is it where the flower of the

orange blows,

And the fire-flies dance through the myrtle boughs? "Not there, not there, my child!"

Is it where the feathering palm-trees rise,
And the date grows ripe under sunny skies,
Or 'midst the green islands of glittering seas,
Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze,
And strange bright birds, on their starry wings,
Bear the rich hues of all glorious things?

"Not there, not there, my child!"

Is it far away in some region old,

Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold—
Where the burning rays of the ruby shine,
And the diamond lights up the secret mine,
And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand—
Is it there, sweet mother, that better land?

"Not there, not there, my child!"

108

THE GREEK GIRL'S SONG.

Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy!
Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy,
Dreams cannot picture a world so fair,
Sorrow and death may not enter there ;
Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom;
For beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb,
"It is there, it is there, my child!"

F. HEMANS.

THE GREEK GIRL'S SONG.

Sung by a young Athenian as she glided by the Asian shore in a caïque.

My own bright Greece! My sunny land!

Nurse of the brave and free!

How bound the cords beneath my hands

Whene'er I sing of thee.

The myrtle branches wave above my brow,
And glorious memories throng around me now!

Thy very name was once a spell

A watchword on the earth

With thee the arts first deigned to dwell,

And o'er thy gentle earth

The social spirit spread her gleaming wings,

And made it the glad home of pure and lovely things.

THE GREEK GIRL'S SONG.

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The snowy marble sprang to life

'Neath thy Promethian touch;

The breeze with sunny song was rife:
(Where now awakens such ?)

All that was brightest, best, with thee was found,
And thy sons trod in pride thy classic ground.

The burning eloquence which dips

Its torch in living fire,

Flowed like a lava-tide, from lips

That, from the funeral pyre

Of by-past ages plucked a burning brand,

To shed new light o'er thee, thou bright and glorious

land!

They tell me thou art nothing now—

I spurn the unholy thought!

The beam is yet upon thy brow

Which erst from heaven it caught.

Let then the baneful blighting mockery cease!
Still art thou beautiful, my own fair Greece!

Firm hearts and glowing souls remain,

To love thee, glorious one!

And though no hand may clasp again

Thy once celestial zone,

Better to worship at thy ruined shrine,

Than bend the knee to one less proud and pure

thine.

than

PARDOE.

110

THE TWIN SISTERS.

THE TWIN SISTERS.

My sister, I sit in the chesnut tree's shade,
Where often in childhood we frolicked and played;
But my spirit is heavy, and burdened with gloom,
I look through my tears at thy close-curtain'd room.
The sounds of dark meaning yet ring in my ear,

66

Thy sister is drooping, her summons is near;"

Yes, death, that the strong and the mighty o'erpowers,

Can even dissever a union like ours.

Our lot was not common, our ties were above
The usual connection of sisterly love;

Together we entered this region of care,

Together we lisped our first infantine prayer;
As childhood advanced, in each study and aim,
Our hopes, our pursuits, our delights were the same ;
And the thought of the one, although yet unexprest,
Oft found a reply in the other's fond breast.

No absence was suffered a chillness to bring

O'er the radiance and joy of our girlhood's fresh spring ; No rival emotions, no jealousies vain,

Our fervent affection e'er came to profane;

In

person

the stranger scarce knew us apart,

But the stranger could trace not our likeness of heart; None, none but ourselves the sweet fulness divined

Of our perfect communion of temper and mind.