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And now I'm old, and going—I'm sure I can't
tell where; One comfort is, this world's so hard, I can't be
worse off there : If I might but be a sea-dove, I'd fly across the
main, To the pleasant Isle of Avès, to look at it once
AIL, beauteous stranger of the grove !
Thou messenger of Spring !
And woods thy welcome sing.
What time the daisy decks the green,
Thy certain voice we hear;
Or mark the rolling year?
Delightful visitant! with thee
I hail the time of flowers,
From birds among the bowers.
The school-boy, wandering through the wood
To pull the primrose gay, Starts, thy curious voice to hear,
And imitates thy lay.
What time the pea puts on the bloom,
Thou fliest the vocal vale, An annual guest to other lands
Another spring to hail.
Sweet bird ! thy bower is ever green,
Thy sky is ever clear;
No winter in thy year.
Oh, could I fly, I'd fly with thee !
We'd make, with joyful wing, Our annual visit o'er the globe,
Companions of the spring.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW.
(An American Poet.)
OTHER WRITINGS :- Voices of the Night; The Golden Legend;
THE shades of night were falling fast,
His brow was sad ; his
In happy homes he saw the light
“ Try not the pass
the old man said, “Dark lowers the tempest overhead,
* EXCELSIOR.--Higher, onward and upward.
The roaring torrent is deep and wide ! ”
“O, stay,” the maiden said, “ and rest
“ Beware the pine-tree's withered branch!
At break of day, as heavenward
* ST. BERNARD.-A mountain pass between Switzerland and Savoy, where travellers are often overtaken by sudden storms, and the falling of snow and ice called Avalanches. There is a monastery there, and the monks have trained dogs to assist in rescuing distressed travellers. These dogs discover the traveller by their delicate scent, and then scratch away the snow and call for help.
There, in the twilight cold and gray,
the old clock on the Stairs.
GOMEWHAT back from the village street
" For ever-never !
Half way up the stairs it stands,
" For ever-never !