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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
Before the favoring gales;
And like the pinions of a swan,
Were spread her swelling sails :

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
The vessel flew, until it only seemed

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 breath of tempest ever came; beneath,
Bright shells and crimson coral, gleaming up
Through the pure lake-like ocean; and around,
Banks, where the spice-tree and the jasmine bough
Hung drooping even to the waters, while

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,

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