THE LADY ARABELLA JOHNSON.

When shone she, life to many a heart,

And light to many an eye.

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"And why," thou askest, "doth she come,

From where she lived, to bless,

Across the wave, to find a home
Within the wilderness?"

Oh! woman's love, a love to one,
And only one heart true,

Hath power to cheer her fainting on,
A thousand dangers through.

And weeping men are standing near

That suffering, dying one,

Adown whose furrowed cheeks no tear

For many a year hath run.

They may not curb the heart's flow there,

Nor gaze in apathy,

When one so young and passing fair,

Hath lain her down to die.

And death upon that pilgrim band
Hath laid his finger cold,

And wasted, with unsparing hand,

Alike the young and old;

And not as yet hath dropped a tear,

For one so loved of all,

And yet must fall upon her ear,
The grim king's whispering call.

And hear her speak! "My husband, thou
Hast e'er been loved by me;
Though I must die, yet even now
My spirit clings to thee.

Scenes may be thine of deadly strife,
Of want and sickness drear;
Then wilt thou miss thy loving wife,
And need her voice to cheer.

"O thou may'st find a kindly one,
Whose presence shall have power
To shed the 'light of love' upon
Thy life's cloud-girted hour.
But oh! earth's myriads among,
Truer, there cannot be,

Nor one to cling as I have clung,

In joy and wo, to thee.

"Come nearer, dearest! for I feel

Life's tide is ebbing fast;

THE LADY ARABELLA JOHNSON.

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And strangely o'er my spirit steal,
The visions of the past.
Again the murmuring trees I hear,

Of our ancestral hall,

Again there falleth on mine ear
My mother's low sweet call.

"And brightly flitteth by me now,
My girlhood's golden day,

When with light step and laughing brow,
I sang its hours away.

And then there comes a darker dream,
When forth from home I went,

Yet even on it shines a gleam,
The light thy true love lent.

"I recollect the heaving sea,

The cold coast's leaden frown,

And the want which fell so heavily,

Upon our bough-built town.

Yet thou hast cheered me safely through

Each scene where fortune led,

And calmed my fear, though white spray flew Above our tall mast-head.

"I fainter grow-my sight o'ercast
No more thy form may see;
I would, that I might to the last
Gaze happily on thee.

Come nearer for one last dim look,
And place thy hand in mine;
Though it is cold, yet once thou took
It proudly at the altar shrine.

"I go uncertain fate to meet,

On death's dark, shadowy way,

Yet would I felt would be as sweet,
Thy life's remaining day,

As that which waits me;-dark must be
Thy passage on through light and shade;
Yet sometimes, love, Oh! think of me
In heaven; the thought will aid.”

She ceased: her cheek which late had burned
With high emotion wildly bright,

As back she sunk, again returned
To cold, sepulchral white.

One last, one faint attempt to show,

By faltering word, her clinging love!

One angel less is there below,

One seraph more above.

A VISION OF BEAUTY.

I SAW her once amid the crowd,
A gleesome and light-hearted thing;
Her sweet voice loudest 'mid the loud,
A full and bird-like caroling;
And yet from out that eye of blue,
Which sparkled in its joyousness,
Methought a soul was looking through,
Stirred by strong thought-high holiness.

And though that voice was gladsome then,
And spake a heart with joy elate,
I knew its deep tones had power, when
Or love or injury was her fate,
To speak her soul's strong passion well,

Her heart's o'erflowing happiness;

Or in deep burning tones to tell,

Her blighted spirit's bitterness.