The Dove Set Free, by T. W. Kelley,..
The Schoolmistress, by W. H. Harrison, Esq.,·
Moderate Pleasures, by Miss Bremer,·
To the Tiger Flower, by Miss Letitia Jermyn,.
The Alarm,..
Lines on a Sun-Flower, by the Rev. Francis Skurray,
The Picturesque, by Mrs. Ellis, ·
Isabel, the Lacemaker, by W. H. Harrison, Esq.,
THE orphan boy! how many ills
Beset his path around!
The softest music on the hills
Seems a discordant sound.
Behold him asking for relief
To soothe his bitter lot,
To mitigate his smallest wants,-
Ah! stranger, pass him not!
Yes; pass him not! that trembling child
Is reft of friends and home;
Thrown out upon the cheerless world,
A wanderer to roam.
His deep eyes are so sorrowful,
His voice so faint and weak,
That when he seeks for sympathy
He tries in vain to speak.
His comrades who once knew him,
When they meet him, scorn his lot; But the orphan looks to heaven,
Where earth's woes can harm him not.
Then he wandered to the sea-side,
Stood on its sounding shore,
And he thought of home and kindred,
As he oft had thought before.
While he pondered on his sorrows,
Thus forsaken and alone,
He approached a seeming stranger
In his usual mournful tone.
His voice was so familiar
That the stranger turned his head;
And the orphan met a brother
Whom he thought long since was dead.
Thus it is when friends have left us,
And the heart grows faint and chill;
When Hope's blessings seem denied us,
There's a hand that guides us still.
'Tis the hand of Him who loves us,
And who sends us timely aid,
And who spake to doubting Peter,
"It is I-be not afraid!"
IT is dead!-it is dead!-it will wake no more
With the earliest light as it waked before-
And singing as if it were glad to wake,
And wanted our longer sleep to break.
We found it a little unfledged thing,
With no plume to smoothe, and no voice to sing ;
The father and mother both were gone,
And the callow nursling left alone!
For a wind as fierce as those from the sea,
Had broken the boughs of the apple-tree;
The scattered leaves lay thick on the ground,
And among them the nest and the bird we found.
We warmed it, and fed it, and made it a nest
Of Indian cotton, and watched its rest;
Its feathers grew soft, and its wings grew strong,
And happy it seemed as the day was long.
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