Silently hops the hermit-thrush, The withered leaves keep dumb for him; The irreverent buccaneering bee Hath stormed and rifled the nunnery Of the lily, and scattered the sacred floor With haste-dropt gold from shrine to door; There, as of yore, The rich, milk-tingeing buttercup Its tiny polished urn holds up, O unestranged birds and bees! Methinks my heart from each of these Upon these elm-arched solitudes The good old time, close-hidden here, While Roundheads prim, with point of fox, Myself too prone the axe to wield, I touch the silver side of the shield How chanced it that so long I tost O, might we but of such rare days Far-shrined from earth's bestaining strife. In our vext world here may not be, The soul one gracious block may draw And lure some nunlike thoughts to take CARY. ALICE CARY was born in Mount Healthy, in the vicinity of Cincinnati, April, 1820. Furnished with but a very limited schooling, and unsurrounded by the incitements of cultured and literary society, she surrendered herself fully to the teachings of her own sweet spirit, and the poetical influences of Nature that lay in variety and beauty around her home. At the age of eighteen she contributed verses to the Cincinnati press, which were well received; but it was by a series of sketches of rural life, published, under the disguise of "Patty Lee," in the National Era, that she first attracted marked attention. In 1850, in company with her sister Phoebe, she removed to New York, where, the same year, the two gave to the public a first volume of Poems. The works that have since been issued by Alice are: Clovernook; or, Recollections of our Neighborhood in the West, a volume of prose sketches, in 1851; Lyra, and other Poems, in 1852; Hagar, a Story of To-Day, in 1852; Clovernook, second series, in 1853; Clovernook Children, in 1854; Poems, a new collection, in 1855; Married, not Mated, and Hollywood, novels, in 1856; Pictures of Country Life, in 1859; The Bishop's Son, in 1867; Snow Berries, in 1867. She died at her residence in New York City, February 12, 1871. Of her Clovernook sketches one of our greatest poets * has said: "They bear the true stamp of genius-simple, natural, truthful—and evince a keen sense of the humor and pathos, of the comedy and tragedy of life in the country." "It is impossible to deny that she has original and extraordinary powers, or that the elements of genius are poured forth in her verses with an astonishing richness and prodigality."+ * John G. Whittier. + E. P. Whipple. "Her characters are remarkable, considering their variety, for fidelity to nature, and her sentiments are marked by womanly delicacy, humanity, and reverence for religion; while over all is the charm of a powerful imagination, with frequent manifestations of the most quiet and delicious humor."* "No American woman has evinced in prose or poetry anything like the genius of Alice Cary."† From the insect's little story RESPITE. FROM “LYRA, AND OTHER Poems.” In the red light of the morning I am weary, oh, how weary! We have journeyed up together, Through the pleasant day-time flown; Now my feet have pressed life's summit, And my pathway lies alone. And, my dear ones, do not call me, For, while yet the stars are lying Therefore, dear ones, let me slumber- And with morning's early splendor, |