LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON. THIS lady, whose poems published under the initials L. E. L. display much grace of versification and correct feeling, was for several years known as a contributor to various periodical publications. In 1837 she married a gentleman named Maclean, who was governor of one of the English settlements on the coast of Africa, but died there shortly after her arrival, under very melancholy circumstances. THE ORPHAN. ALONE, alone!-no other face Wears kindred smile, or kindred line; And yet they say my mother's eyes, They say my father's brow, is mine; And either had rejoiced to see The other's likeness in my face, But now it is a stranger's eye, That finds some long forgotten trace. I heard them name my father's death, Beside my youthful mother's grave. If I had ought of memory, I should not feel so all alone. My heart is gone beyond the grave, Till I could fancy soothing words Are whispered by the evening wind: I gaze upon the watching stars, So clear, so beautiful above, Till I could dream they look on me With something of an answering love. 214 LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON. My mother, does thy gentle eye, Look from those distant stars on me? A message to thy child from thee? Again a parent's love to share? And pray to be a sleeper there. The vesper bell!-'tis eventide, I will not weep, but I will pray: God of the fatherless, 'tis Thou Alone canst be the orphan's stay! THE PILGRIM. VAIN folly of a another age, This wandering over earth, To find the peace by some dark sin, On Lebanon the dark green pines Springs from a hallowed mound. Glorious the truth they testify, And blessed is their name; But even in such sacred spot, O Pilgrim! vain each toilsome step, There is no charm in soil or shrine, To wash thy guilt away. LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON. 215 Return, with prayer and tear, return There's hope for one who leaves with shame, The guilt that lured before: Remember, He, who said "Repent,' Said also, "Sin no more." Return, and in thy daily round Thou best wilt find that patient faith, In every innocent prayer, each child If thine has been to teach that prayer, There is a small white church, that stands There kneel and pour those earnest prayers Around thee draw thine own home ties, No wandering will find. In charity and penitence, Thy sin will be forgiven; Pilgrim, the heart is the true shrine, Whence prayers ascend to heaven. ROBERT MONTGOMERY, A CLERGYMAN of the Established Church, is the author of The Omnipresence of the Deity, and some other works, which have become deservedly popular, as they exhibit great command of language and the other graces of poetry, united to much amiable sentiment, and have throughout but one object-that of impressing the awful truths of religion upon the heart of the reader. ANGELS. ELYSIAN race! while o'er their slumbering flocks BEAUTY OF HOLINESS. Not all the pomp and pageantry of worlds And in his prayer, what privilege adored! Mounting the heavens and claiming audience there : Yes! there, amid a high immortal host Of seraphs hymning in eternal choir, In temple or in solitude outbreathed. CHRISTIAN RESIGNATION. Go, child of darkness! see a Christian die! DIVINE PERFECTION OF CHRIST. OH! who shall paint Him?-let the sweetest tone Melt into muteness, ere they soar to Thee, Thou sole Perfection!-Theme of countless worlds! |