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H

PASSING SHIPS.

OW oft from out the distance blue

Some stately ship sweeps o'er the bay,

There for a space remains in view,

Then from the waters fades away.

Thus oft upon life's ocean wide
Faces arise awhile to light,
Across our path in silence glide,

And pass for ever from the sight.

THE PATHWAY THROUGH THE WOOD.

A SONG.

WAS a calm and lovely evening,

'T

And the peaceful woods were still :

Scarce a sound of life ascended

The forest-covered hill,
As beneath the welcome shelter

Of the shady trees I stood,

While before my view there wended
The pathway through the wood.

On either side, like columns,

The beeches reared their head,
And their slender branches hovered,
Like angel wings outspread ;
While the sunbeams fell between them,
Gently softened and subdued,

And formed a chequered carpet

For the pathway through the wood.

The turf that lay beneath me

Was dressed in living green,

And the brightest flowers of summer
Were scattered o'er the scene:
But, of all I saw around me,

I deemed most fair and good
One who by my side was standing

In the pathway through the wood.

And, while that best-belov'd one
Was ling'ring with me there,

In my heart the hope I cherished

She my path through life would share ; And, with her for my companion,

'Tis my only wish it should

Prove as peaceful and as happy
As the pathway through the wood.

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THOUGHTS OF THE DEAR OLD TIMES.

A SONG.

ID all the joys that hope can boast,

'MID

Or expectation give,

One joy there is that charms me most,
Through every hour I live ;

For, floating on my memory,

Like sound of distant chimes,

Come thoughts of moments sweet to me,
Thoughts of the dear old times.

'Tis this that bids despair depart,
And drives our griefs away;

'Tis this that cheers the saddest heart,
And gilds the brightest day;
'Tis this that sweetens music's strain,
Inspires the poet's rhymes,

And brings a blessing in its train-
Thoughts of the dear old times.

Still to these thoughts my spirit clings,
Where'er my lot is cast;

And the fairest scene the future brings

Shall but rebuild the past:

For, though the days to come be drear,

And I in foreign climes,

One joy my darkest hour shall cheer,

Thoughts of the dear old times.

MY DEAR OLD HOME.

M'

A SONG.

Y dear old home! how oft to thee

My thoughts go back with joy,

Until thy roof I seem to see,

Once more a happy boy:
My mother's kiss is on my brow,

My father's hand in mine;
My long-lost playmates even now

Their arms around me twine.

Though future years to me should bring
Unbounded wealth and pow'r,
And fortune on my pathway fling

Her bounties every hour,

My dear old home! within thy walls
I'd rather make my stay

Than in a monarch's gilded halls

Hold undisputed sway.

How dear to me shall ever prove

That one familiar spot,

Blest by a thousand dreams of love

That ne'er can be forgot!

For, though to thee I ne'er return,

But far for ever roam,

My heart with tender thoughts shall yearn To thee, my dear old home!

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