THE TWO APRIL MORNINGS.

"With rod and line I sued the sport

Which that sweet season gave,

And, coming to the church, stopped short Beside my daughter's grave.

"Nine summers had she scarcely seen,

The pride of all the vale;

And then she sang;-she would have been A very nightingale !

"Six feet in earth my Emma lay;

And yet I loved her more,

For so it seemed, than till that day

I e'er had loved before.

"And, turning from her grave, I met,
Beside the churchyard yew,

A blooming Girl, whose hair was wet
With points of morning dew.

"A basket on her head she bare;
Her brow was smooth and white;
To see a child so very fair,
It was a pure delight!

"No fountain from its rocky cave
E'er tripped with foot so free;
She seemed as happy as a wave
That dances on the sea.

"There came from me a sigh of pain
Which I could ill confine;

I looked at her, and looked again :
-And did not wish her mine."

HENCE good and evil mixed, but man has skill
And power to part them, when he feels the will!
Toil, care, and patience bless th' abstemious few,
Fear, shame, and want the thoughtless herd pursue.
Behold the Cot! where thrives th' industrious swain,
Source of his pride, his pleasure, and his gain;
Screen'd from the winter's wind, the sun's last ray
Smiles on the window and prolongs the day
Projecting thatch the woodbine's branches stop,
And turn their blossoms to the casement's top:
All need requires is in that cot contain'd,
And much that taste untaught and unrestrain'd
Surveys delighted.

CRABBE.

IT is the hour when from the boughs
The nightingale's high note is heard;
It is the hour when lovers' vows

Seem sweet in every whisper'd word;
And gentle winds, and waters near,
Make music to the lonely ear.

Each flower the dews have lightly wet,

And in the sky the stars are met,

And on the wave is deeper blue,

And on the leaf a browner hue,

And in the heaven that clear obscure,
So softly dark, and darkly pure,

Which follows the decline of day,

As twilight melts beneath the moon away.

BYRON.