Which shall not die when night and day,

And time itself, shall fade away?

The wife of Noah, pure and kind,

Had sigh'd, with anxious heart and mind, O'er all the scenes of death and woe Which fell to guilty man below,

Ere yet the waters, heaving wild,

Had living things from earth exiled ;
But from each deed that she had done
Her heart a secret charm had won,
That else the world could not convey,

And time could never take away :

And thus there glow'd around her mind,
A ray immortal and refined,

Lifting her heart and hopes on high
To woo a sanction from the sky,
For every aim her being own'd
In shedding peace and joy around.

Even in her years of earliest youth,

High glow'd her sense of love and truth,
And through her earthly pilgrimage,

Her spirit would a warfare wage
With deeds of ardour, unimpair'd,
Their sacredness and rights to guard,
As striving still to banish woe,

And guilt, and shame, from earth below;
Yet many a scene her memory throng'd,
Where she, with pain, was doom'd to see
How truth and innocence were wrong'd,
As they have been, and still will be ;
And she would thus the tales impart,
To entertain and teach the heart.

A SONG OF THE WIFE OF NOAH.

ERE yet o'er the earth the wild waters had roll'd The tide of their measureless sea,

The tale of young Lelah in sadness was told 'Neath the shade of our sycamore-tree.

'Twas said, that the light of her looks was as fair As the dawn on the valleys of dew;

The pearls were bright in her long raven hair,
And her young heart was holy and true.

The faith that she bore to the youth whom she loved, No time and no changes could tame;

And tender and deep were the joys that they proved, Till the hour that the dark spoiler came.

He heard of the fame of young Lelah afar,
And swore, by his hope 'neath the sun,
That his efforts should cease not, in peace or in war,
Till the love of fair Lelah was won :

For fierce was his soul as the awful simoom,
In the day when its breath is abroad;

His spirit was dark as the wilderness' gloom,
And his heart had forgotten its God.

Yet calm did he seem when he came to her home,
Adown by the stream in the vale,

And, soft as the breeze passing over the bloom,
He breathed out the words of his tale.

But Lelah was silent, or wayward, or cold;
For thus, though his accents were mild,
Still well could she mark, from the tale that he told,
That the thoughts of his spirit were wild.

And wilder they grew, still the more that he felt

How far from availing might prove

His pleading with her, in whose presence he knelt,

In the awful emotions of love.

"Oh, if thou wilt leave this lone dwelling," he said,

"And fly to another with me,

The heavens shall melt, and the universe fade,

Ere

my

soul's love shall wander from thee!

"For thee-yes, for thee, shall my spirit resign

All joy that it ever hath known,

And the powers of my being in fondness combine To worship young Lelah alone.

"Unseen shall the stars of the heaven shed forth That glory which others survey;

Unheeded the beauties shall cover the earth,
While thine have a charm to convey.

"For spotless, and faithful, and fair, as thou art,

Devotion shall only be thine,

Pour'd forth, ever thus, from the warmth of the heart

For thou-thou alone art divine!

"Then fly even now from this dwelling afar, To a home where our love shall be free,