Bathe his worn brow with labour's wasting dew, And, sleepless, toil for heirs he knows not who.

Thus He who marks us in our vain career, In wisdom darkens what we hold most dear; Shreds from our vine the bowering leaves away, And breaks its tendrils from their grovelling stay, That the rich clusters, lifted to the sky,

May surer ripen for a world on high.

MRS L. H. SIGOURNEY, 1791—

-American.

ODE TO PATIENCE.

UNAWED by threats, unmoved by force,
My steady soul pursues her course,
Collected, calm, resign'd;

Say, you who search with curious eyes
The source whence human actions rise-
Say whence this turn of mind?

'Tis Patience-lenient Goddess, hail!
Oh, let thy votary's vows prevail,
Thy threaten'd flight to stay;

Long hast thou been a welcome guest,
Long reign'd an inmate in this breast,
And ruled with gentle sway.

Through all the various turns of fate,
Ordain'd me in each several state,

My wayward lot has known;
What taught me silently to bear,
To curb the sigh, to check the tear,
When sorrow weigh'd me down?

'Twas Patience-temperate Goddess, stay! For still thy dictates I obey,

Nor yield to Passion's power:

Though by injurious foes borne down,
My fame, my toil, my hopes o'erthrown
In some ill-fated hour.

When robb'd of what I held most dear,
My hands adorn'd the mournful bier
Of her I loved so well;

What, when mute sorrow chain'd my tongue,
As o'er the sable hearse I hung,
Forbade the tide to swell?

'Twas Patience-Goddess ever calm!

Oh! pour into my breast the balm,
That antidote to pain;

Which flowing from thy nectar'd urn,
By chemistry divine can turn.

Our losses into gain.

When sick and languishing in bed,

Sleep from my restless couch had fled,

(Sleep which even pain beguiles,) What taught me calmly to sustain

A feverish being rack'd with pain,

And dress'd my looks in smiles?

'Twas Patience-Heaven-descended maid! Implored, flew swiftly to my aid,

And lent her fostering breast;

Watch'd my sad hours with parent care,
Repell'd the approaches of despair,
And soothed my soul to rest.

Say, when dissever'd from his side,
My friend, protector, and my guide,
When my prophetic soul,

Anticipating all the storm,

Saw danger in its direst form,

What could my fears control?

'Twas Patience-gentle Goddess, hear!
Be ever to thy suppliant near,

Nor let one murmur rise;

Since still some mighty joys are given,
Dear to her soul the gifts of Heaven,
The sweet domestic ties.

MRS T. SHERIDAN.

-Poetical Register, 1802.

YOUTH AND AGE.

WITH cheerful step the traveller
Pursues his early way,

When first the dimly-dawning east
Reveals the rising day.

He bounds along his craggy road,
He hastens up the height,
And all he sees and all he hears
Administer delight.

And if the mist, retiring slow,
Roll round its wavy white,
He thinks the morning vapours hide
Some beauty from his sight.

But when behind the western clouds

Departs the fading day, How wearily the traveller

Pursues his evening way!

Sorely along the craggy road

His painful footsteps creep,

And slow, with many a feeble pause, He labours up the steep.

And if the mists of night close round,
They fill his soul with fear :
He dreads some unseen precipice,
Some hidden danger near.

So cheerfully does youth begin
Life's pleasant morning stage;
Alas! the evening traveller feels
The fears of wary age.

ROBERT SOUTHEY, 1776-1843.

A WISH.

MINE be a cot beside the hill;

A bee-hive's hum shall soothe my ear;
A willowy brook, that turns a mill,
With many a fall, shall linger near.

The swallow oft beneath my thatch
Shall twitter from her clay-built nest;

Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch,

And share my meal, a welcome guest.

Around my ivied porch shall spring

Each fragrant flower that drinks the dew; And Lucy, at her wheel, shall sing,

In russet gown and apron blue.