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FOREST MELODIES. |
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What new events, that in their change Are surely for my good design'd,
Shall waken feelings new and strange To' enrapture, or to pain my mind ?
I may not know—in vain I ask,
But time the lecord shall disclose ; Meanwhile be mine the sacred task »
To follow where my duty goes. O ! may I watch my erring heart,
And so improve each passing hour, That peace, though all beside depart,
May linger with her soothing power!
THE ORPHAN GIRL. We met, when the summer's richest light Had tinged each flower with hues more bright, And flush'd the blue skies—yet her cheek was
pale As the sweet spring lily that droops in the vale.
She stood in a group of the young and the fair, She smiled among those who were strangers to
care ; Yet her smile, with a touching sadness blent, A pensive charm to each feature lent
O, the melting expression of that sweet eye! With the darken'd lashes bent droopingly ! |
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