hrough the transparent skin;
Day by day some fiercer new pains
Vex without, or war within:
Yet she counts it but a passing,
Transient, accidental thing;
Were the summer only here,
It would healing bring!
And with many a fond deceit
Tries she thus her fears to cheat:
"When the cowslip's early bloom
Quite hath lost its rich perfume;
When the violet's fragrant breath
Tasted have the lips of death;
When the snowdrop long hath died,
And the primrose at its side
In its grave is sleeping;
When the lilies all are over,
And amongst the scented clover
Merry lambs are leaping;
When the swallow's voice is ringing
Through the echoing azure dome,
Saying, 'From my far-off home
I have come, my wild way winging
O'er the waves, that I might tell,
As of old, I love ye well.
Hark! I sound my silver bell;
All the happy birds are singing
From each throat
A merry note,
Welcome to my coming bringing.'
When that happy time shall be,
From all pain and anguish free,
I shall join you, full of life and full of glee."

Then, thou fearful Stethoscope!
Thou dost seem thy lips to ope,
Saying, "Bid farewell to hope:
I foretell thee days of gloom,
I pronounce thy note of doom--
Make thee ready for the tomb!
Cease thy weeping, tears avail not,
Pray to God thy courage fail not.
He who knoweth no repenting,
Sympathy or sad relenting,
Will not heed thy sore lamenting--
Death, who soon will be thy guide
To his couch, will hold thee fast;
As a lover at thy side
Will be with thee to the last,
Longing for thy latest gasp,
When within his iron grasp
As his bride he will thee clasp."

Shifts the scene. The Earth is sleeping,
With her weary eyelids closed,
Hushed by darkness into slumber;
Whilst in burning ranks disposed,
High above, in countless number,
All the heavens, in radiance steeping,
Watch and ward
And loving guard
O'er her rest the stars are keeping.

Often has the turret-chime
Of the hasty flight of time
Warning utterance given;
And the stars are growing dim
On the gray horizon's rim,
In the dawning light of heaven.
But there sits, the Bear out-tiring,
As if no repose requiring,
One pale youth, all unattending
To the hour; with bright eye bending
O'er the loved and honoured pages,
Where are writ the word