"Why, yes, I would one favor more:

My fond parental joys

I couldn't bear to lose them all;
I'll take my girls and boys."

The smiling angel dropped his pen-
"Why, this will never do;
The man would be a boy again,

And be a father, too!"

And so I laughed. My laughter woke
The household with its noise;

I wrote my dream when morning came,
To please my girls and boys.

B

The Silent Melody.

RING me my broken harp," he said;

"We both are wrecks-but as ye will

Though all its ringing tones have fled,
Their echoes linger round it still;
It had some golden strings, I know,
But that was long-how long!—ago.

"I can not see its tarnished gold,

I can not hear its vanished tone,

Scarce can my trembling fingers hold
The pillared frame so long their own;
We both are wrecks--a while ago

It had some silver strings, I know.

"But on them time too long has played

The solemn strain that knows no change,

And where of old my fingers strayed

The chords they find are new and strangeYes, iron strings-I know-I know

We both are wrecks of long ago.

"We both are wrecks a shattered pairStrange to ourselves in time's disguise.

What say ye to the lovesick air

That brought the tears from Marian's eyes?
Ay! trust me under breasts of snow
Hearts could be melted long ago!

"Or will ye hear the storm songs crash That from his dreams the soldier woke, And bade him face the lightning's flash

When battle's cloud in thunder broke? * Wrecks-nought but wrecks!-the time was when We two were worth a thousand men."

And so the broken harp they bring

With pitying smiles that none could blame;

Alas! there's not a single string

Of all that filled the tarnished frame!

But see! like the children overjoyed,

His fingers rambling through the void!

"I clasp thee! Ay

mine ancient lyre

*

Nay, guide my wandering fingers ** there! They love to dally with the wire

As Isaac played with Esau's hair. *

Hush! ye shall hear the famous tune
That Marian called 'The Breath of June!''

And so they softly gather round:

Rapt in his tuneful trance he seems:

His fingers move; but not a sound! A silence like the song of dreams. "There! ye have heard the air," he cries, "That brought the tears from Marian's eyes!"

Ah, smile not at his fond conceit,

Nor deem his fancy wrought in vain; To him the unreal sounds are sweetNo discord mars the silent strain Scored on life's latest, starlit pageThe voiceless melody of age.

Sweet are the lips of all that sing,

When nature's music breathes unsought,

But never yet could voice or string

So truly shape our tenderest thought

As when by life's decaying fire
Our fingers sweep the stringless lyre!

T

The Dream of Life.

WAS but a bubble, yet 'twas bright, And gayly danced along the stream Of life's wild torrent, in the light

Of sunbeams sparkling like a dream
Of heaven's own bliss for loveliness-
For fleetness like a passing thought;
And ever of such dreams as thee

The tissue of my life is wrought.
For I have dreamed of pleasures when
The sun of young existence smiled
Upon my wayward path, and then

Her promised sweets my heart beguiled,
But when I came those sweets to sip,
They turned to gall upon my lip.

And I have dreamed of friendship, too;
For friendship, I had thought, was made
To be man's solace in the shade,

And glad him in the light, and so

I fondly thought to find a friend

Whose soul with mine would sweetly blend,

And, as two placid streams unite

And roll their waters in one bright

And tranquil current to the sea,
So might our happy spirits be
Borne onward to eternity;

But he betrayed me, and with pain
I woke to sleep and dream again.

And then I dreamed of love: and all
The clustered visions of the past
Seemed airy nothings to that last
Bright dream. It threw a magical
Enchantment o'er existence-cast
A glory o'er my path so bright,
I seemed to breathe and feel its light;
But now that blissful dream is o'er,
And I have waked to dream no more.

Beyond the farthest glimmering star
That twinkles in the arch above,
There is a world of truth and love
Which earth's vile passions never mar.
Oh, could I snatch the eagle's plumes,
And soar to that bright world away,
Which God's own holy light illumes
With glories of eternal day!

How gladly every lingering tie

That binds me down to earth I'd sever,

And leave for that blest home on high, This hollow-hearted world forever.