"Oh mother, sweet mother!

Whose love, like the wave,

Hid treasures and jewels,

And also a grave.
Too strong in its fullness,
Too deep in its power,
Oh, hush, precious mother,
The grief of this hour!

"I walk 'mid the palm trees,
And drink of the rills,

That on earth are but types of
What God here fulfils;

The joys of my childhood,
How dim they appear!

Yes, dim are the brightest,
When looked on from here!

"Then stay not, then mourn not,
Then yield not to fears;
The flowers love has planted,
O steep not in tears;
There's beauty, there's blessing,

On earth left for thee,

But bid me not share them,

There's more here with me."

M. J. FLETCHER.

The Nosegay.

I'll pull a bunch of buds and flowers,
And tie a ribbon round them,

If you'll but think, in your lonely hours,
Of the sweet little girl that bound them.

I'll cull the earliest that put forth,
And those that last the longest;

And the bud that boasts the fairest birth,
Shall cling to the stem that 's strongest.

I've run about the garden walks,
And searched among the dew, sir;
These fragrant flowers, these tender stalks,
I've plucked them all for you, sir.

So here's your bunch of buds and flowers,
And here's the ribbon round them;
And here, to cheer your saddened hours,
Is the sweet little girl that bound them.

BRAINARD.

Cheerfulness.

Oh! why delight to wrap the soul
In pall of fancied sadness!

'T were best be merry while we live,
And paint our cheeks with gladness;
What if hope tells a "flattering tale,"
And mocks us by deceiving,

"T is better far to be content, -
There's nothing made by grieving.

The girls, heaven bless their precious souls!
Are thick as bees about us;

And every mother's son well knows, -
They could not do without us;

They 're dangerous, though, to meddle with,
For they, too, are deceiving;

They 'll win and laugh, then flirt you, yet There's nothing made by grieving.

LAWRENCE LABREE.

To an absent Friend.

Thou art not gone; thou couldst not go;
True friends can never part;

Our prayer is one, our hope is one,
And we are one in heart!

Nor place, nor time, can e'er divide
The souls which friendship seals;
But still the changing scenes of life,
Their mutual love reveals.

Body from body may be placed
Remote as pole from pole;
But can our fleshly frailties bind

The fellowship of soul?

"T is when removed from grosser sense
My spirit claims her right;

My friend is often least away
When absent from my sight.

His form and look, in memory's glass,
I still distinctly see;

His voice and words, in fancy's ear,

Are whispering still to me.

The stars which meet his pensive eye

Are present still to mine;

The moonlights, which surround his path,

Around my footsteps shine.

Beneath the same fair dome we dwell,

By the same hand are fed,

And, pilgrims in one narrow way,

Are by one spirit led!

To the great presence of our God,

By hourly faith we come;

And find in sweet communion there,

One everlasting home!

Our hope, our joy, our life, our soul,

In our one Saviour meet;

And what in earth or heaven shall break
A union so complete?

O blest are they who seek in Him
A union to their friend;

Their love shall grow through life's decay,
And live when life shall end.

And blest be He whose love bestows
A friendship so divine,

And makes, by oneness with Himself,
My friend for ever mine!

AMULET.