which told of the aching of hearts that were breaking,
A past of delight and a future of tears.

And long as we listen'd, in lulls of the night breeze,
On our ears the sad shouting in faint music fell,
Till methought it seem'd lost in the roll of the white seas,
And the rocks and the winds only echoed farewell.

More bright was our home-hearth, more bright and more cosy,
As we shut out the night and its darkness once more;
But pale were the cheeks, that so radiant and rosy,
Were flush'd with delight a few moments before.

So I told how the morning, all lovely and tender,
Sweet dew on the hills, and soft light on the sea,
Would follow the exiles and float with its splendour,
To gild the far land where their homes were to be.

In the eyes of my children were gladness and gleaming,
Their little prayer utter'd, how calm was their sleep!
But I in my dreaming could hear the wind screaming,
And fancy I heard hoarse replies from the deep.

And often, when slumber had cool'd my brow's fever,
A dream-utter'd shriek of despair broke the spell;
'Twas the voice of the emigrants leaving the river,
And startling the night with their cries of farewell.

FIRST GRIEF.

They tell me first and early love
Outlives all after dreams;
But the memory of a first great grief
To me more lasting seems;
The grief that marks our dawning youth
To memory ever clings,
And o'er the path of future years
A lengthen'd shadow flings.

Oh, oft my mind recalls the hour
When to my father's home
Death came--an uninvited guest--
From his dwelling in the tomb!
I had not seen his face before,
I shudder'd at the sight,
And I shudder still to think upon
The anguish of that night!

A youthful brow and ruddy cheek
Became all cold and wan;
An eye grew dim in which the light
Of radiant fancy shone.
Cold was the cheek, and cold the brow,
The eye was fix'd and dim;
And one there mourn'd a brother dead
Who would have died for him!

I know not if 'twas summer then,
I know not if 'twas spring,
But if the birds sang on the trees
I did not hear them sing!
If flowers came forth to deck the earth
Their bloom I did not see;
I look'd upon one wither'd flower,
And none else bloom'd for m