ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT.

'Thou weepest, childless mother!

Ay, weep!-'twill ease thine heart :— He was thy first born son,

Thy first, thine only one;

'Tis hard from him to part!

"Tis hard to lay thy darling
Deep in the damp cold earth-

The empty crib to see,

The silent nursery,

Once gladsome with his mirth;

To meet again, in slumber,

His small mouth's rosy kiss-
Then, wakened with a start
By thine own throbbing heart,
His twining arms to miss!

To feel (half conscious why)
A dull, heart-sinking weight,
"Till memory on thy soul
Flashes the painful whole,

That thou art desolate!

And then to lie and weep,
And think the live-long night
(Feeding thy own distress
With accurate greediness)
Of every past delight—

Of all his winning ways—
The pretty, playful smiles,

His joy at sight of thee,
His tricks, his mimicry,

And all his little wiles!

Oh these are recollections

Round mothers' hearts that cling

That mingle with the tears

And smiles of after years,

With oft awakening.

But thou wilt then, fond mother!
In after years, look back,
(Time brings such wondrous easing)
With sadness not unpleasing,

E'en on this gloomy track.

Thou'lt say " My first-born blessing,

It almost broke my heart

When thou wert forced to go!

And, yet for thee, I know

"Twas better to depart.

"God took thee in his mercy

A lamb, untasked, untried; He fought the fight for theeHe won the victory

And thou art sanctified!

"I look around, and see

The evil ways of men ;

And, oh! beloved child!
I'm more than reconcil'd

To thy departure then.

"The little arms that clasped me,
The innocent lips that pressed--
Would they have been as pure
Till now, as when of yore,

I lulled thee on my breast?

“Now, like a dew-drop shrined
Within a crystal stone,

Thou'rt safe in heaven, my dove!
Safe with the source of love,
The everlasting One.

"And when the hour arrives From flesh that sets me free, Thy spirit may await

The first at heaven's gate,

To meet and welcome me."

CAROLINE BOWLES.

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"LOVE NEVER FAILETH." St. Paul.

They sin who tell us LOVE can die,
With life all other passions fly,

All others are but vanity.

In heaven ambition cannot dwell,
Nor avarice in the vaults of hell;
Earthly these passions of the earth,
They perish where they have their birth;
But LOVE is indestructible.

Its holy flame for ever burneth,

From heaven it came, to heaven returneth;
Too oft on earth a troubled guest,
At times deceived, at times opprest,
It here is tried and purified,
Then hath in heaven its perfect rest.
It soweth here in toil and care,

But the harvest time of love is there.
Oh! when a mother meets on high
The babe she lost in infancy,