ood,
Whilst I have tried, with beating heart,
To steal the poison from each dart;
But oft I fear, lest these dread showers
Will baffle all our feeble powers,
And death's cold hand, will rend apart
The tie that binds her to my heart.
Long I've refused to leave her side,
Lest there should aught remain untried,
Which might her wasting form restore,
And tinge her cheek with bloom once more.
Oft by her couch, the livelong night,
I've watched, till morn's unwelcome light,
Like some vain babbler, must reveal
The tears, which I would fain conceal;
Then softly stole, in silence, where
No sigh could reach the sufferer's ear.
But, shall I thus forever weep,
And let my harp forgotten sleep,
When there's one sweet melodious strain,
Whose power can wake its string again?
Come, let us chant one grateful song
To Him, whose patience waited long,--
"_God ruleth, let the earth rejoice!_"
Yes, let us make a joyful noise.
We're chastened by a hand divine,
Let us be dumb, nor dare repine;
Thou didst it. O, our Father, God,
Then let us humbly kiss the rod.
Though from our eyes the tear-drop starts,
When those who twine around our hearts
Are suffering with exquisite pain,
Yet, we may weep, and not complain.
Lord, thou didst weep, and so may we,
And bow submissive still to Thee;
Grant us thy grace in sorrow's hour,
To flee for refuge to thy power.

TO A SISTER WHILE DANGEROUSLY ILL.

O Sister! Sister! can it be
That thou must droop, and die?
Still blending on thy fair young cheek,
The rose and lily vie.

But burning fever is the root
From whence those roses spring;
While pain and suffering, on thy brow,
Those snowy lilies fling.

THE INVALID'S DREAM

The sick girl sat with downcast eye,
Her bosom heaved the deep drawn sigh,
She felt that all complaint was vain,
For health would ne'er return again.

With pain and weariness oppressed,
She sought her pillow, there to rest,
While sleep a welcome visit paid,
Bright scenes were to her view displayed.

In fancy's magic glass, she sees
Her cheek, long faded by disease,
The rose of health blooms there again,
'Tis no deceitful hectic stain.

Lightly and firm her footsteps fell;
In rapture, she exclaimed, "I'm well!
I bear no suff'ring, feel no pain,
My long lost treasure I regai