And while they disdain not their own simple stem, The honours they grasp may gain honours for them; But when, like the pet plant, such people grow pert, We soon trace them to their original dirt Under a hedge. LXVII. A SISTER'S LOVE. THERE is a clear and precious gem, Not brilliant, like the star of day, Which owns not time's relentless sway; Its earthly name-a Sister's love! Though orient pearls, by friendship strung, And though, by love's own finger hung, Blest was that spot which own'd its power, That consecrated spot, where He, Whom the angelic hosts adore, Indulged in sweet society; And bade the stroke of death remove, Bind on your heart this jewel rare, LXVIII. MY CHILDHOOD'S HOME. I HAVE tasted each varied pleasure, I have danced to the gayest measure, I have dwelt in a blaze of splendour, I have snatch'd at each joy that could render And I turn with a sigh to my own dear home, When jewels are sparkling round me, I weep for the ties that bound me In life's first early days. I sigh for one of the sunny hours, Ere day was turn'd to night! For one of my nosegays of fresh wild flowers, I weep when I gaze on the scentless buds And I turn with a sigh to those gay green fields, Every day and every night Bring to thee the same delight; LX. ON HOPE. REFLECTED in the lake, I love To see the stars of evening glow, Thus heavenly hope is all serene: But earthly hope, how bright soe'er, Still flutters o'er this changing scene, As false, as fleeting as 'tis fair. LXI. TO A YOUNG LADY. FAIREST flower, all flowers excelling, Which in Milton's page we see, Flowers of Eve's embower'd dwelling, Are, my fair one, types of thee. Mark, my Mary, how the roses How the bud its sweets discloses- Lilies are, by plain direction, But, dear girl, both flowers and beauty Blossom, fade, and die away: Then pursue good sense and duty, Evergreens, which ne'er decay! |