"EARTH'S CHILDREN CLEAVE TO EARTH." EARTH'S children cleave to Earth-her frail Decaying children dread decay. Yon wreath of mist that leaves the vale, It lingers, as it upward creeps, Yet all in vain-it passes still From hold to hold, it cannot stay, And in the very beams that fill The world with glory, wastes away. And that which sprung of earth is now TO A WATERFOW L. WHITHER, 'midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way! Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, Thy figure floats along. Seek'st thou the plashy brink Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide, There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast, The desert and illimitable air,— Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, TO A WATERFOWL. And soon that toil shall end; Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest, Thou'rt gone, the abyss of heaven He who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, Will lead my steps aright. M 2 267 THE BATTLE-FIELD. ONCE this soft turf, this rivulet's sands, Ah! never shall the land forget How gushed the life-blood of her braveGushed, warm with hope and courage yet, Upon the soil they fought to save. Now, all is calm, and fresh, and still, And talk of children on the hill, And bell of wandering kine are heard. No solemn host goes trailing by The black-mouthed gun and staggering wain, Men start not at the battle cry, Oh be it never heard again. Soon rested those who fought; but thou Thy warfare only ends with life. THE BATTLE-FIELD. A friendless warfare! lingering long Through weary day and weary year. A wild and many-weaponed throng Hang on thy front, and flank, and rear. Yet, nerve thy spirit to the proof, The timid good may stand aloof, The sage may frown-yet faint thou not. Nor heed the shaft too surely cast, The hissing, stinging bolt of scorn; For with thy side shall dwell, at last, The victory of endurance born. Truth, crushed to earth, shall rise again; Yea, though thou lie upon the dust, When they who helped thee flee in fear, Die full of hope and manly trust, Like those who fell in battle here. Another hand thy sword shall wield, 269 |