To gild again thy native skies,
From which thou once wert torn;
For thy earthly mission’s over,
To the dust oppression’s hurled;
Thou’st struck to none but a deathless power,
’Mid the wrecks of a falling world.
Avena.
STORY AND SENTIMENT,
OR, CONVERSATIONS WITH A MAN OF TASTE AND IMAGINATION.
No. 3.
A NIGHT AT THE FARM HOUSE.[1]