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450 ANNE CHARLOTTE LYNCH.

and unaffected feeling, as moral power. "To speak nobly, comprehends to feel profoundly." They sink into the heart, softening and purifying it; while they stir up the mind, awaking it to see with a clearer eye the shadows and substances of life, the real value of its worthless joys, and of its priceless sorrows. Miss Lynch's sonnets are choice; showing that perfect finish of form, and condensation of idea, which is never attained but by well-disciplined minds severe upon themselves. They are all precious stones; and though some, of course, may be of higher value than others, still, all are pure gems from a mine of richest thought. Miss Lynch has been preparing lately a volume of poems for publication; we can hope nothing better for it, than that its reception and reputation may be equal to its excellence.*

WASTED FOUNTAINS.

And their nobles have sent their little ones to the waters; they came to the pits and found no water; they returned with their vessels empty.
—Jeremiah, xiv. 3.

WHEN the youthful fever of the soul
Is awaken'd in thee first,
And thou go'st like Judah's children forth
To slake the burning thirst,

And when dry and wasted like the springs
Sought by that little band,
Before thee, in life's emptiness,
Life's broken cisterns stand;

When the golden fruits that tempted thee
Turn to ashes on the taste,
And thine early visions fade and pass,
Like the mirage of the waste;

When faith darkens, and hopes vanish
In the shade of coming years,
And the urn thou bear'st is empty,
Or o'erflowing with thy tears;

*Published by G. Putnam, New York. Jan. 1849.

ANNE CHARLOTTE LYNCH.  451

Though the transient springs have fail'd thee,
Though the founts of youth are dried,
Wilt thou among the mouldering stones
In weariness abide?

Wilt thou sit among the ruins,
With all words of love unspoken,
Till the silver cord is loosen'd,
Till the golden bowl is broken?

Up and onward! toward the East
Green oases thou shalt find,—
Streams that rise from higher sources
Than the pools thou leav'st behind.

Life has import more inspiring
Than the fancies of thy youth;
It has hopes as high as Heaven,
It has labour, it has truth.

It has wrongs that may be righted,
Noble deeds that may be done;
Its great battles are unfought,
Its great triumphs are unwon.

There is rising from its troubled deeps
A low, unceasing moan;
There are aching, there are breaking,
Other hearts besides thine own.

From strong limbs that should be chainless,
There are fetters to unbind;
There are words to raise the fallen,
There is light to give the blind.

There are crush'd and broken spirits,
That electric thoughts may thrill;
Lofty dreams to be embodied
By the might of one strong will.

Transcription Notes:
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