IMPROMPTU,
On The Reception Of A Letter.

I would love to have thee near me,
But when I think how drear
Is each hope that used to cheer me,
I cease to wish thee here.

I know that thou, wouldst not shrink from
The storms that burst on me,
But the bitter chalice I drink from,
I will not pass to thee.

I would share the world with thee, were it
With all its pleasures mine,
But the sorrows which I inherit,
I never will make thine!


THE OLD MAN AND THE BOY.

"Glenara, Glenara, now read me my dream."
Campbell.

Father, I have dreamed a dream,
When the rosy morning hour
Poured its light on field and stream,
Kindling nature with its pow'r;--

O'er the meadow's dewy breast,