A coffin through Timothy's threshold had past; One Child did it bear, and that Child was his last. Now fast up the dell came the noise and the fray, Perhaps to himself at that moment he said, "The key I must take, for my Ellen is dead.” But of this in my ears not a word did he speak ; And he went to the chase with a tear on his cheek. 1800. ΧΧΙΧ. THE EMIGRANT MOTHER. ONCE in a lonely hamlet I sojourned, In which a Lady driven from France did dwell; The big and lesser griefs with which she mourned, In friendship she to me would often tell. This Lady, dwelling upon British ground, Once having seen her clasp with fond embrace Endeavoring, in our English tongue, to trace I. Dear Babe, thou daughter of another, Thy own dear mother's far away, Thy little sister is at play ; What warmth, what comfort would it yield One little hour a child to me! II. Across the waters I am come, Come to me, I'm no enemy: For thee, sweet Baby!- thou hast tried, Thou know'st the pillow of my breast; III. Here, little Darling, dost thou lie; Mine wilt thou be, thou hast no fears; Mine art thou spite of these my tears. My baby and its dwelling-place, The nurse said to me, "Tears should not Be shed upon an infant's face, It was unlucky," no, no, no; No truth is in them who say so! IV. My own dear Little-one will sigh, "T is gone, V. -like dreams that we forget; There was a smile or two; yet, yet I can remember them, I see The smiles, worth all the world to me. Dear Baby! I must lay thee down; Thou troublest me with strange alarms; For they confound me ; where - where is That last, that sweetest smile of his? O how I love thee! VI. we will stay Together here this one half-day. My sister's child, who bears my name, VII. I cannot help it; ill intent I've none, my pretty Innocent! I weep, -I know they do thee wrong, they would speak, I think, to help me if they could. VIII. While thou art mine, my little Love, Thy features seem to me the same; And, when once more my home I see, 1802. XXX. VAUDRACOUR AND JULIA. The following tale was written as an episode, in a work from which its length may perhaps exclude it. The facts are true; no invention as to these has been exercised, as none was needed. O HAPPY time of youthful lovers, (thus In which a love-knot on a lady's brow Is fairer than the fairest star in heaven! To such inheritance of blessed fancy (Fancy that sports more desperately with minds Than ever fortune hath been known to do) |