Lord of the boundless realm of air, The hearts of the bold and ardent dare From the river of Egypt's cloudy springs, For thee they fought, for thee they fell, Thou wert, through an age of death and fears, Till the gathered rage of a thousand years And then, a deluge of wrath it came, And it swept the earth, till its fields were flame, And where was then thy fearless fight?- To the lands that caught the setting light, There, on the silent and lonely shore, For ages, I watched alone, And the world, in its darkness, asked no more, Where the glorious bird had flown. "But then came a bold and hardy few, And they breasted the unknown wave; I caught afar the wandering crew, And I knew they were high and brave. I wheeled around the welcome bark, "And now, that bold and hardy few And danger and doubt I have led them through, And over their bright and glancing arms, On field, and lake, and sea, With an eye that fires, and a spell that charms, Atlantic Souvenir. THE LOST STAR. A light is gone from yonder sky, No; few will miss its lovely face, And none think heaven less bright! What wert thou star of?—vanished one! What mystery was thine? Thy beauty from the east is gone: What was thy sway and sign? Wert thou the star of opening youth?— And is it then for thee, Its frank glad thoughts, its stainless truth, 190 Of hope?—and was it to express In sign how it will fade? An echo flung the winds among, Or didst thou sink, as stars whose light The rest shine forth the next dark night, Didst thou fade gradual, from the time Forgotten and departed star! A thousand glories shine Who then remembers thine? Save when some mournful bard like me Dreams over beauty gone, And in the fate that waited thee, Reads what will be his own. Literary Souvenir. L. E. L. THE OLD MAID'S PRAYER TO DIANA. SINCE thou and the stars, my dear goddess, decree, For to bear it must be my endeavour; From the grief of my friendships, all dropping around, From the scorn of the young, or the flouts of the gay, By the pert ones who know nothing better to say, From over-solicitous guarding of pelf, Or ridiculous whim whatsoever; From the vapourish freaks or methodical airs, From the erring attachments of desolate souls, But chief from the love of all loveliness flown, From spleen at beholding the young more caressed, Nor let satisfaction depart from her lot. STANZAS FOR MUSIC. BY THE REV. T. DALE. O breathe no more that simple air,— Is cold despair! I heard it once from lips as fair, I heard it in as sweet a tone,— Now I am left on earth alone, And she is where? How have those well-known sounds renewed With fairy flowers! Then all was bright, and fond, and fair,— And thou to blame my tears forbear; |