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470      MARY E. LEE.

Though youth has gone, I've a passion still
For the cool rain's pleasant tunes,
Whether they steal on the midnight hours,
Or peal on the sultry noons;
Whether they come with the fitful spring,
Or the equinoctial spell,
From the fierce black north, or the sweet southwest,
In all changes I love them well.

'Tis folly to talk of my spirit's freaks,
But its loftiest flights of thought,
And its friendliest feelings to human-kind,
From a clouded sky are caught;
And my mirth breaks out in its merriest peal,
And I feel most the gift of life,
When the wind and rain o'er a silent world
Hold elemental strife.

'Tis pleasant to watch how the green trees quench
Their thirst with a long, full draught;
While the bright flowers hoard up an after store,
In the cup but so lately quaff'd;
And 'tis pleasant to see how those other flowers,
The children of every home,
Are stirr'd with joy when their parted lips
Catch the drops as they slowly come.

Oh! better far than a written page,
Is the sermon it reads to me,
This plenteous flood of delicious scent,
That falls in a torrent free;
It brings me nearer to Him who gave
The early and latter rain,
And my heart swells ever as now it does,
In a fresh and an answering strain.

AMELIA B. WELBY.

THIS sweet poetess was born at St. Michaels, Maryland, in the year 1821. Her family name was Coppuck. In 1838, she was married to Mr. George B. Welby, of Louisville, Kentucky, where she still resides. Her genius budded and blossomed at an early age, but it was not until after her marriage that the world scented the fragrance of its flowers. They were gathered first by the Louisville Journal, and disseminated freely; being warmly praised, and widely copied by other journals, until the name of Amelia became a welcome sound to all true lovers of poetry and feeling. She writes with a free and spirited pen; her rhythm is always correct, and always full of melody, worthy of expressing the ardent impulses of a true and guileless heart. Pure friendship, undivided admiration for the beautiful, and ever-gushing love for the gifts of loving Nature, seem to be the chief incentives to her song. A volume called Poems by Amelia, was published in 1846, and rapidly passed through four editions. From this have been selected what pleases us best; though the merit of all is so uniform, that it is hard to say which are most worthy of choice.

MUSINGS.

I WANDERED out one summer-night,
'Twas when my years were few,
The wind was singing in the light,
And I was singing too;
The sunshine lay upon the hill,
The shadow in the vale,
And here and there a leaping rill
Was laughing on the gale.

One fleecy cloud upon the air
Was all that met my eyes;
It floated like an angel there
Between me and the skies;

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Transcription Notes:
---------- Reopened for Editing 2023-06-29 15:26:11