TO A FRIEND IN BEREAVEMENT. O comfort, nay, no comfort. Yet would I In Sorrow's cause with Sorrow intercede. Ah, sentence it to suffer, not to die. "Comfort?" If Jesus wept at Bethany- That doze and nap of Death-how may we bleed On earth you still must mourn. He who, being bold For why to live again if not to meet? And why to meet if not to meet in love? And why in love if not in that dear love of old? SYDNEY DOBELL . AD MATREM. (MARCH 13, 1862.) FT in the after-days, when thou and I When, both together, under the sweet sky We sleep beneath the daisies and the dew, Oh may they then, who crown thee with true bays, } AD MATREM. (MARCH 13, 1864.) USIC, and frankincense of flowers, belong Take, then, the latest blossom of my song, And to Love's canticle incline thine ear. What is it that Love chaunts? thy perfect praise. To think how poor my love compared with thine ! P AD MATREM. (MARCH 13, 1870.) O, like a wanderer from the world of shades, Back to that light of love that never fades— The unbroken sunshine of thy blissful eyes, I come to greet thee on this happy day Queen of all good, and sovereign of my heart. JULIAN FANE. A DISAPPOINTMENT. PRING, of a sudden, came to life one day. The birch trees budded purple on the hill; But now the breeze that played about the door, So caught the dead leaves that I thought there flew -But someone said you came not. Ah, too true! ALICE MARy Blunt. |