TO EMMA.

With thee, my Emma, lovely fair, with thee

Life’s varied path I’ll tread contentedly;

When rising morn her blooming tints displays,

And clads all nature with enlivening rays;

Or when the threatning storm in dark attire,

Beclouds the scene, and hurls etherial fire:

Sweet innocence, bright beaming from thine eye,

Shall heavenly hope and fortitude supply;

—Together then, my Emma, let us stray,

Where heaven and virtuous love shall point the way.

VIATOR.


For the New-York Weekly Magazine.