As though loath the bright scene of enchantment to leave,

While its drapery of gold, hurried carelessly on,

Fades away, tint by tint, till at last all are gone,

I feel ’tis an emblem of life’s little hour,

(Thus perish the hues of hope’s loveliest flower),

And I sigh for repose on that heavenly shore

Where the day is eternal, and change is no more.

1830. E. P. K.

LINES
SUGGESTED BY THE PRESENCE OF THE ENGLISH FRIENDS, J. AND H. C. BACKHOUSE, IN AMERICA—1831.