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TO A BUTTERFLY.

STAY near me ! do not take thy flight!
A little longer stay in sight!

Much converse do I find in thee,
Historian of my infancy!

Float near me! do not yet depart !
Dead times revive in thee;

Thou bring'st, gay creature as thou art,
A solemn image to my heart,

My father's family!

Oh, pleasant, pleasant were the days,
The time when, in our childish plays,
My sister Emmeline and I
Together chased the butterfly.
A very hunter did I rush

Upon the prey; with leaps and springs
I followed on from brake to bush ;
But she (God love her!) fear'd to brush
The dust from off its wings.

TO A SKYLARK.

I.

ETHEREAL minstrel! pilgrim of the sky!

Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound?
Or while the wings aspire, are heart and eye
Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground?

Thy nest which thou canst drop into at will,
Those quivering wings composed, that music still!

II.

To the last point of vision, and beyond,

Mount, daring warbler !—that love-prompted strain (Twixt thee and thine a never-failing bond) Thrills not the less the bosom of the plain : Yet mightst thou seem, proud privilege, to sing All independent of the leafy spring.

III.

Leave to the nightingale her shady wood;

A privacy of glorious light is thine;

Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood
Of harmony, with instinct more divine.
Type of the wise who soar, but never roam;
True to the kindred points of heaven and home!

THE LABOURER'S NOON-DAY HYMN.

Up to the throne of God is borne
The voice of praise at early morn;
And he accepts the punctual hymn,
Sung as the light of day grows dim.
Nor will he turn his ear aside

From holy offerings at noon-tide;
Then, here reposing, let us raise
A song of gratitude and praise.

What though our burden be not light,
We need not toil from morn to night;
The respite of the mid-day hour
Is in the thankful creature's power.
Blest are the moments, doubly blest,
That, drawn from this one hour of rest,
Are with a ready heart bestow'd
Upon the service of our God!

Each field is then a hallowed spot,

An altar is in each man's cot,

A church in every grove that spreads
Its living roof above our heads.

Look up to heaven! th' industrious sun
Already half his race hath run :
He cannot halt nor go astray,
But our immortal spirits may.
Lord! since his rising in the east,
If we have falter'd or transgress'd,
Guide from thy love's abundant source
What yet remains of this day's course.
Help with thy grace through life's short day,
Our upward and our downward way;

And glorify for us the west,

When we shall sink to final rest.

THE INVITATION.

IT is the first mild day of March,
Each minute sweeter than before,
The redbreast sings from the tall larch
That stands beside our door.

There is a blessing in the air,

Which seems a sense of joy to yield To the bare trees and mountains bare, And grass in the green field.

My sister ('tis a wish of mine)

Now that our morning meal is done, Make haste, your morning task resign; Come forth and feel the sun.

Edward will come with you, and pray

Put on with speed your woodland dress : And bring no book, for this one day We'll give to idleness.

No joyless forms shall regulate

Our living calendar ;

We from to-day, my friend, will date

The opening of the year.

Love, now a universal birth,

From heart to heart is stealing,

From earth to man, from man to earth :
It is the hour of feeling.

One moment now may give us more

Than years of toiling reason:

Our minds shall drink at every pore

The spirit of the season.

Some silent laws our hearts will make,
Which they shall long obey :

We for the year to come may take

Our temper from to-day.

And from the blessed power that rolls

About, below, above,

We'll frame the measure of our souls;

They shall be tuned to love.

Then come, my sister! come, I pray,
With speed put on your woodland dress;
And bring no book; for this one day
We'll give to idleness.

NATURE.

NATURE never did betray

The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege,
Through all the years of this our life, to lead
From joy to joy; for she can so inform
The mind that is within us, so impress
With quietness and beauty, and so feed

With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues,
Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men,
Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all
The dreary intercourse of daily life
Shall e'er prevail against us or disturb
Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold
Is full of blessings. Therefore let the moon
Shine on thee in thy solitary walk;
And let the misty mountain winds be free
To blow against thee: and, in after years,
When these wild ecstasies shall be matured
Into a sober pleasure, when thy mind
Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms,
Thy memory be as a dwelling-place

For all sweet sounds and harmonies; oh! then,
If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief,

Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts Of tender joy wilt thou remember me,

And these my exhortations!

IMMORTALITY.

OUR birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:
The soul that rises with us, our life's star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,

And cometh from afar :

Not in entire forgetfulness,

And not in utter nakedness,

But trailing clouds of glory do we come
From God who is our home.
Heaven lies about us in our infancy!
Shades of the prison-house begin to close
Upon the growing boy,

But he beholds the light, and whence it flows,
He sees it in his joy.

The Youth, who daily further from the east
Must travel, still is Nature's priest,
And by the vision splendid

Is on his way attended.

At length the Man perceives it die away,
And fade into the light of common day.

Those first affections,

Those shadowy recollections,
Which, be they what they may,

Are yet the fountain light of all our day,
Are yet a master light of all our seeing;

Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make
Our noisy years seem moments in the being
Of the eternal silence: truths that wake
To perish never;

Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour, Nor man, nor boy,

Nor all that is at enmity with joy,

Can utterly abolish or destroy!

Hence in a season of calm weather,

Though inland far we be,

Our souls have sight of that immortal sea
Which brought us hither,

Can in a moment travel thither,

And see the children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.

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