umed air?
Is it by valley or heath-clad mountain?
Is it by streamlet or limpid fountain?
Tell me, and I will come to thee,
Follow thy flight through immensity!

Dost thou not roam in the realms of sleep,
While stars above thee their bright watch keep,
Lapping the soul in a crystal sea,
Whose every swell is felicity?
And in the halls of her quiet home,
Where darkness pillars the starry dome,
Making all beauty more beautiful,
And keeping the moonbeams soft and cool,
Dost thou not sit till the morning beams
Weaving the fabric of happy dreams,
Bringing dear visions to weeping eyes,
Till sorrow transforms to paradise?
Dost thou not kiss sweet lips till they smile,
And murmur of joys they knew erewhile,
And build up hopes that are shatter'd quite,
Decking the past in a robe of light?

O! thou art a kind and gentle thing,
Bearing the gifts that _good_ angels bring,
Joying in all that is bright and free,
And soothing the sting of misery;
If thou would'st dwell in my beating heart,
And breathe thy fragrance through every part,
I would ever love and obey thee,
Never slight thee and never betray thee
Into the hands of cruel scoffers,
Who sell their souls to fill their coffers,
Crush every flower beneath their feet,
And make the sole bliss of life--to cheat;
Cheat the greenwoods of happy ramblers,
To rear a race of slaves and gamblers;
Cheat the summer, cheat the spring,
Cheat the sweet flowers of their ministring;
Cheat the soft meadows and sunny skies
Of their glad tribute from glist'ning eyes;
Cheat the birds in their leafy bowers,
Cheat every day of its few short hours,
Cheat even life of its little pleasure,
Dealing its needfuls out in short measure;
Cheating all beauty while they draw breath,
But true to _one_ commerce, that is--Death!

Come to me then, and I'll cherish thee,
Thou shalt my loving companion be;
From the cold world we will live apart,
And build up a new one within my heart.

WHAT IS A SIGH?

It is the sound
Raised by the sweeping of an angel's wing,
As through the air
It bears a prayer
Of the soul's uttering.

It is the sweet
Melodious echo of some thrilling thought
Retold by sadness
Unto gladness,
Which memory hath brought.

It is the hymn
Breath'd ever