And drank in its fragrance with heartfelt delight.

Yet blossoms that smile in the green woodland bower,
Ne'er rival this sweet intellectual flower;
This blossom sprang up from the depths of the mind,--
The heart's thrilling fibres its tendrils entwine,

Affection's pure fountain has watered the germ,
The bright sun of intellect cherished its form,
It's petals were colored in fancy's rich dye,
Till they, with the hues of the rainbow may vie;
I'll pluck thee, sweet blossom, pure fragrance I find,
When the rich perfumes are inhaled by the mind.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 5: A volume of poems.]




THE MINISTER

AT THE FAMILY ALTAR. COMPOSED FOR THE REV. W. FOSS,
OF LEEDS.

The father, still in manhood's prime,
Was bowed in humble prayer;
His partner, fair as when a bride,
Was kneeling by him there.