27 17 MAIDENHOOD. O suffering, sad humanity! I pledge you in this cup of grief, - The alarm, the struggle, the relief, — M MAIDENHOOD. AIDEN! with the meek, brown eyes, Thou whose locks outshine the sun, Standing, with reluctant feet, Gazing, with a timid glance, Deep and still, that gliding stream Then why pause with indecision, * Seest thou shadows sailing by, Hearest thou voices on the shore, O, thou child of many prayers! Like the swell of some sweet tune, May glides onward into June. Childhood is the bough, where slumbered Birds and blossoms many-numbered ; · Age, that bough with snows encumbered. Gather, then, each flower that grows, Bear a lily in thy hand; Gates of brass cannot withstand Bear through sorrow, wrong, and ruth, O, that dew, like balm, shall steal Into wounds, that cannot heal, And that smile, like sunshine, dart For a smile of God thou art. THE HE shades of night were falling fast, His brow was sad; his eye beneath, And like a silver clarion rung The accents of that unknown tongue, In happy homes he saw the light Of household fires gleam warm and bright; TH THE RAINY DAY. 'HE day is cold, and dark, and dreary; My life is cold, and dark, and dreary; My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past, Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; Some days must be dark and dreary. IT IS NOT ALWAYS MAY. NO HAY PÁJAROS EN LOS NIDOS DE ANTAÑO. Spanish Proverb. HE sun is bright, - the air is clear, TH -- The darting swallows soar and sing, And from the stately elms I hear The blue-bird prophesying Spring. So blue yon winding river flows, It seems an outlet from the sky, Where waiting till the west wind blows, The freighted clouds at anchor lie. THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. All things are new; the buds, the leaves, All things rejoice in youth and love, Maiden, that read'st this simple rhyme, Enjoy the Spring of Love and Youth, THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. U NDER a spreading chestnut-tree The village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; And the muscles of his brawny arms His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man. 21 |