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Ask of the winds, that far around
With fragments strewed the sea.
With mast, and helm, and pennon fair,
That well had borne their part; But the noblest thing that perished there, Was that young and faithful heart !
MY BROTHERS GRAVE.
The following lines were suggested by some remarks
made in the letter of a child of ten years old, in allusion to the grave of an infant brother, for whom he cherished a deep affection.
I RECOLLECT my brother's grave,
A simple grassy mound-
And daisies bloom around.
I used to gather sweet wild flowers,
Wet with the morning dew,
When hot and wearied with my play
I sought the hallow'd sod, And happy thoughts would o'er me stray,
Of earth, and heaven, and God.
At twilight, too, when all was still,
Save the low murmuring breeze; Fancy my chasten'd heart would fill
With landscapes snch as these :
A flowery vale-with running streams,
O’er which the sun shone bright; And Angel forms, like those in dreams
We see sometimes at night,
Walk'd there; and little children, too,
Play'd all the live-long day Where buttercups and violets grew,
As if 'twere always May.
And happy voices sweetly sang,
And music fill'd the air,
For sorrow dwelt not there.
And one there was who seemed to speak;
He smiled, and waved his hand;
I thought he said “ Sweet brother, seek
To reach this happy land.”
I see not now that little
grave, For we no longer dwell Where I can visit it as once,
And yet I love it well.
My playmates, when in childish glee,
Ye to the churchyard go,
Think who lies there so low.
Oh, tread not on my brother's grave,
Or pluck in wanton mood
WANT OF THOUGHT.
Time to me, this truth hath taught,
'Tis a truth that's worth revealing ; More offend from want of thought,
Than from any want of feeling.
If advice we would convey,
There's a time we should convey it ;
Oft unknowingly the tongue
Touches on a chord so aching,
WHO LOVES ME BEST ?
Who loves me best? My mother sweet,
look with love's replete ;
say, That she sometime must pass away : Who then shall shield me from earthly ill ? Some one must love me better still.
Who loves me best? My father dear,
Who loves me best? The gentle dove
Who loves me best? My sister fair,