orpse;
Where cank'rous gold sways, millions with a nod
To abject slavery, buying men up
As toys for knaves to play with in the game
Of life; where Truth is kicked from foot to foot,
Till in bewilderment she cries aloud
And swears to save her life she is a lie;
Where Love and Hate, in masquerading guise,
Pell-mell dance on; chameleon Charity,
In all its varying phases, crawls along--
Now shrinking up dark courts in russet tint,
And then, in bold and gaudy colours dresst
Which publish trumpet-tongued its whereabouts,
It takes a garish stand before the world
And calls itself an angel. Thus for aye--
For ever, rolls the dark and turbid stream
In feverish unrest.

LOVE'S WILES.

When Beauty smiles upon thee--have a care.
Kingdoms ere this have hinged upon a kiss
From woman's lips: and smiles have won a crown.
Glances from bright eyes of a gentle maid,
Whose cheeks would redden at a mouse's glance,
Have hearts befool'd that in their noble strength
Had shaken Kingdoms down. Have thou a care.

HAZARD IN LOVE.

My sorrowing heart is like the blasted oak
That claspt the dazzling lightning to its breast,
Yielding its life up to the burning kiss.
Springs came along and fondled all in vain,
And Summers toy'd with warm and am'rous breath;
But nought in life could e'er again restore
The greening foliage of its early days.
Man never loves but once--then 'tis a cast
For life or death. If death--alas the day!
If life--'twere perfect Paradise.

A MOTHER'S LOVE.

And friends fell from me--all, save God, and one
Beside--and she my mother--gentle, true.
As the bleak wind sweeps o'er the trembling limbs
Of some fair tree denuded of its dress,
How oft is seen, upon the topmost spray,
One lonely leaf, which braves the passing storm
Of Winter, and when gladsome Spring arrives,
And blossoms bloom in beauty all around,
It bends its brow and silent falls away.
So droopt that friend, who, through the livelong day
Of icy cold that chill'd my inmost life,
Sat like a bird upon the outside branch,
And sweetly sang me songs of coming Spring.

"THE SHADOW OF THE CROSS."

'Tis everywhere! The babe that sees with pain
The look of feign'd displeasure on the face
Of doting mother; and the mother who
Lays down the babe to rest--no more to wake;
The youth and maiden fair who tempt the stream
Of love that never br