or of a little poem
widely quoted and admired many years ago, commencing:

'O! for my bright and faded hours!
When life was like a summer stream,
On whose gay banks the virgin flowers
Blushed in the morning's rosy beam,
Or danced upon the breeze that bare
Its store of rich perfume along,
While the wood-robin poured on air
The ravishing delights of song!'

To us, who are familiar with the painful circumstances under which they
were written, and the deep affliction which they deplore, they seem almost
to sob with irrepressible grief:

A LAMENT.

I.

GIVE not to me the wreath of green,
The blooming vase of flowers;
They breathe of joy which once hath been,
Of gone and faded hours!
I cannot love the rose; though rich,
Its beauty will not last:
Give me--give _me_ the bloom o'er which
The early blight hath passed!
The yellow buds--give _them_ to rest
On my cold brow and joyless breast,
When life is failing fast!

II.

Take far from me the wine-cup bright,
In hours of revelry;
It suits glad brows, and bosoms light,
It is not meet for me:
Oh! I can pledge the heart no more
I pledged in days gone by;
Sorrow hath touched my bosom's core,
And I am left--to die!
Give me to drink of Lethe's wave,
Give me the cold and cheerless grave,
O'er which the night-winds sigh!

III.

Wake not upon my tuneless ear
Soft music's stealing strain;
It cannot soothe, it cannot cheer
This anguished heart again!
But place the AEolian harp upon
The tomb of her I love;
There, when Heaven shrouds the dying sun,
My weary steps will rove,
While o'er its chords Night pours its breath,
To list the serenade of death
Her silent bourne above!

IV.

Give me to seek the lonely tomb
Where sleeps the sainted dead,
When the pale night-fall throws its gloom
Above her narrow bed!
There, while the winds which sweep along,
O'er the harp-strings are driven,
And the funereal soul of song
Upon the air is given,
Oh! let my faint and parting breath
Be mingled with that song of death,
And flee with it to heaven!

* * * * *

'WHO hath redness of eyes?' This interrogative 'portion of divine
scripture' is forcibly illustrated by an anecdote, related with most
effective dryness by a friend of ours. An elderly gentleman, accustomed to
'indulge,' e