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ON BURNING A PACKET OF

LETTERS.

BY ALARIC A. WATTS.

I.

RELICS of love, and life's enchanted spring,

Of hopes born, rainbow-like, of smiles and tears;With trembling hand do I unloose the string, Twined round the records of my youthful years.

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Yet why preserve memorials of a dream,

Too bitter-sweet to breathe of aught but pain!
Why court fond memory for a fitful gleam
Of faded bliss, that cannot bloom again!

III.

The thoughts and feelings these sad relics bring
Back on my heart, I would not now recall :—
Since gentler ties around its pulses cling,

Shall spells less hallowed hold them still in thrall?

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IV.

Can withered hopes that never came to flower,

Match with affections long and dearly tried! Love, that has lived through many a stormy hour, Through good and ill,—and time and change defied!

V.

Perish each record that might wake a thought
That would be treason to a faith like this!—
Why should the spectres of past joys be brought
To fling their shadows o'er my present bliss!

VI.

Yet, ere we part for ever,-let me pay
A last, fond tribute to the sainted dead;
Mourn o'er these wrecks of passion's earlier day,
With tears as wild as once I used to shed.

VII.

What gentle words are flashing on my eye!
What tender truths in every line I trace!
Confessions-penned with many a deep-drawn sigh,-
Hopes—like the dove—with but one resting-place !

VIII.

How many a feeling, long-too long-represt,
Like autumn-flowers, here opened out at last!-
How many a vision of the lonely breast

Its cherished radiance on these leaves hath cast!

IX.

And ye, pale violets, whose sweet breath hath driven
Back on my soul the dreams I fain would quell;
To whose faint perfume such wild power is given,
To call up visions-only loved too well;—

X.

Ye too must perish!—Wherefore now divide
Tributes of love-first-offerings of the heart;—
Gifts-that so long have slumbered side by side;
Tokens of feeling-never meant to part!

XI.

A long farewell :-sweet flowers, sad scrolls, adieu! Yes, ye shall be companions to the last :

So perish all that would revive anew

The fruitless memories of the faded past!

XII.

But lo! the flames are curling swiftly 'round
Each fairer vestige of my youthful years;
Page after page that searching blaze hath found,
Even whilst I strive to trace them through my tears.

XIII.

The Hindoo widow, in affection strong,

Dies by her lord, and keeps her faith unbroken :— Thus perish all which to those wrecks belong, The living memory-with the lifeless token!

ITALIAN GIRL'S HYMN TO THE

VIRGIN.

BY MRS. HEMANS.

O sanctissima, O purissima,
Dulcis virgo Maria!

Mater amata intemerata

Ora, ora pro nobis.

Sicilian Mariner's Hymn.

I.

In the deep hour of dreams,

Through the dark woods, and past the moaning sea,

And by the starlight gleams, Mother of Sorrows! lo, I come to thee.

II.

Unto thy shrine I bear

Night-blowing flowers, like my own heart to lie,

All, all unfolded there,

Beneath the meekness of thy pitying eye.

III.

For thou, that once didst move,

In thy still beauty, through an earthly home,
Thou know'st the grief, the love,

The fear of woman's soul;-to thee I come!

IV.

Many, and sad, and deep,

Were the thoughts folded in thy silent breast;
Thou too couldst watch and weep-
Hear, gentlest Mother! hear a heart opprest!

V.

There is a wandering bark,

Bearing one from me o'er the restless wave;

Oh! let thy soft eye mark

His course-be with him, Holiest, guide and save!

VI.

My soul is on that way;

My thoughts are travellers o'er the waters dim

Through the long weary day

I walk, o'ershadowed by vain dreams of him.

VII.

Aid him, and me too, aid!

Oh! 'tis not well, this earthly love's excess!

On thy weak child is laid

The burthen of too deep a tenderness.

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