HENRY GLASSFORD BELL.
Henry Glassford Bell is the son of James Bell, Esq., advocate. His mother was the daughter of the Rev. John Hamilton, minister of Cathcart. He was born at Glasgow, but his early life was spent chiefly in Edinburgh, whither his parents removed in his sixth year. Having studied at the University of Edinburgh, he passed advocate in 1832. Prior to his commencing the study of law, he much devoted himself to literary pursuits. In 1828 he published, in "Constable's Miscellany," a "Life of Mary, Queen of Scots," in two volumes, of which work several editions have since appeared. About the same time he established the Edinburgh Literary Journal, which he conducted for several years with much acceptance to the public. His other publications are, "My Old Portfolio," a volume of miscellaneous prose and verse, and "Summer and Winter Hours," a volume of lyric poems and songs. Both these works are out of print. Mr Bell has contributed to the principal periodicals, and associated with the leading literary men of his time. Since 1839 he has resided in Glasgow, holding the appointment of a Sheriff-substitute of Lanarkshire.
MY LIFE IS ONE LONG THOUGHT OF THEE.
Say wilt thou, Leila, when alone,
Remember days of bliss gone by?
Wilt thou, beside thy native Rhone,
E'er for our distant streamlets sigh?
Beneath thy own glad sun and sky,
Ah! Leila, wilt thou think of me?
She blush'd, and murmur'd in reply,
"My life is one long thought of thee."
Sweet girl! I would not have it so;
My destiny must not be thine,
For wildly as the wild waves flow,
Will pass this fleeting life of mine.
"And let thy fate be weal or woe,
My thoughts," she smiling said, "are free;
And well the watchful angels know
My life is one long thought of thee."
Then, Leila, may thy thoughts and prayers
Be with me in my hour of need,
When round me throng the cold world's cares,
And all my heart's fresh sorrows bleed!
"Why, dearest, nurse so dark a creed?
For full of joy thy years shall be;
And mine shall share the blissful meed,
For life is one long thought of thee."
WHY IS MY SPIRIT SAD?
Why is my spirit sad?
Because 'tis parting, each succeeding year,
With something that it used to hold more dear
Than aught that now remains;
Because the past, like a receding sail,
Flits into dimness, and the lonely gale
O'er vacant waters reigns!