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194   MARGUERITE ST. LEON LOUD.

No hand above the window
Ties up the trailing vines;
And through the broken casement-panes
The moon at midnight shines.
And many a solemn shadow
Seems starting from the gloom;
Like forms of long departed ones
Peopling that dim old room.

No furrow for the harvest
Is drawn upon the plain;
And in the pastures green and fair,
No herds or flocks remain.
Why is that beauteous homestead
Thus standing bare and lone?
While all the worshipp'd household gods
In dust lie overthrown.

And where are they whose voices
Rang out o'er hill and dale?
Gone;—and their mournful history
Is but an oft-told tale.
There smiles no lovelier valley
Beneath the summer sun,
Yet they who dwelt together there
Departed on by one.

Some to the quiet churchyard,
And some beyond the sea;
To meet no more, as once they met,
Beneath that old roof-tree.
Like forest-birds forsaking
Their shelt'ring native nest,
The young—to life's wild scenes went forth,
The aged—to their rest.


MARGUERITE ST. LEON LOUD.   195

Fame and ambition lured them,
From that green vale to roam,
But as their dazzling dreams depart,
Regretful memories come
Of the valley, and the homestead,
Of their childhood pure and free;
Till each world-weary spirit pines,
That spot once more to see.

Oh! blest are they who linger
'Mid old familiar things,
Where every object o'er the heart
A hallow'd influence flings.
Though won are wealth and honours,—
Though reach'd fame's lofty dome,—
There are no joys like those which dwell
Within our childhood's home.


"JESUS WEPT."
john xi. 35.

DRAW near, ye weary, bow'd, and broken-hearted,
Ye onward trav'lers to a peaceful bourne;
Ye, from whose path the light hath all departed,
Ye, who are left in solitude to mourn;
Though o'er your spirits hath the storm-cloud swept,
Sacred are sorrow's tears, since "Jesus wept."

The bright and spotless Heir of endless glory,
Wept o'er the woes of those He came to save;
And angels wondered when they heard the story,
That He who conquered death, wept o'er the grave,
For 'twas not when his lonely watch He kept
In dark Gethsemane, that "Jesus wept."