MOSS. The velvet moss, Embroidered with the purple violet, Gleamed in the sunshine like an emerald gem. M. J. F. How I love to look on the fresh green moss, In the pleasant time of spring, When the young light leaves in the quick breeze toss, Like fairies on the wing; When it springeth up in woodland walks, And a natural carpet weaves, To cover the mass of withered stalks, And last year's fallen leaves. The lovely moss! on the lowly cot It lies like an emerald crown, And the summer shower pierceth it not As it comes rushing down: And I love its freshened brilliancy, When the last rain hath pattered, And the sparkling drops on its surface lie, Like stars from the pure sky scattered. And I love-I love to see it much, When on the ruin gray, Which crumbles to Time's heavy touch, It spreads its mantle gay. While the cold ivy only gives, As it shivereth, thoughts of fear, The closely-clinging moss still lives, Like a friend, for ever near! But oh! I love the bright moss most, When I see it thickly spread On the sculptured stone, that fain would boast Of its forgotten dead: For I think "If that lowly thing can efface The fame that earth hath given, Who is there that would ever chase Glory, save that of Heaven!" FRAGMENT. saw the ship go dancing on But ere again uprose the sun, Rose sounds of shrieks and wails; And ere morn the gallant ship was gone, And sunk with her snowy sails. Old Ballad. A ship was on the ocean,-round it fell Light from on high ;-the waters sparkling played In showers of spray around it, as its prow Cleft through their clear blue depths: no cloud in heaven, No angry billow on the laughing main ; No mournful faces on her stately deck; The seaman's song rose up, as farther still A bird upon the waves; and the faint shout Died in the distance, like a spirit's hymn. The ship went through strange scenes, through unknown seas, To glorious isles, that lay in the blue sea Like stormless clouds upon the summer heaven; And there she was in glassy bays, where scarce The odorous gums were dropping in the wave, Like angels' tears; and breath of roses was The roughest gale that filled her snowy sails; And her bold sailors brought from thence bright gems, |