BY ROBERT BARKER.
How dear to love the moonlight hour, Beneath the calm transparent ether, It seems as if by magic power They breathe in unison together. When forest glen and fountain bright Are tinged with shades of mellow light, And every earthly sound is still Save murmur of the mountain rill; 'Tis then to lull the breast's commotion, And waken every soft emotion, To charm from sorrow's cheek her tears, And place the smiles of rapture there, "Celestial music of the spheres" Comes floating on the evening air. 'Tis then that fancy wings her flight Beyond the bounds to mortals given; To regions where the lamps of night Illume the path which leads to heaven. 'Tis then she holds communion sweet With seraphs round the eternal throne, Where long-departed spirits meet, To worship him who sits thereon. 'Tis then man dreams of Paradise, If aught he dreams of place like this, 'Tis then he breathes the crystal air, Which Peris breathe who wander there, And sips the fount of Native Love Found no where but in heaven above.
SONG.
BY J. R. DRAKE.
'Tis not the beam of her bright blue eye, Nor the smile of her lip of rosy dye, Nor the dark brown wreaths of her glossy hair, Nor her changing cheek, so rich and rare. Oh! these are the sweets of a fairy dream, The changing hues of an April sky; They fade like dew in the morning beam, Or the passing zephyr's odour'd sigh.
'Tis a dearer spell that bids me kneel, 'Tis the heart to love, and the soul to feel: 'Tis the mind of light, and the spirit free, And the bosom that heaves alone for me. Oh! these are the sweets that kindly stay From youth's gay morning to age's night; When beauty's rainbow tints decay, Love's torch still burns with a holy light.
Soon will the bloom of the fairest fade, And love will droop in the cheerless shade, Or if tears should fall on his wing of joy, It will hasten the flight of the laughing boy. But oh! the light of the constant soul Nor time can darken nor sorrow dim; Though we may weep in life's mingled bowl, Love still shall hover around its brim.