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THE SMILE OF INNOCENCE.
And there's a smile on nature's face
When evening spreads her shades around;
It is a smile which angels might
It is the smile of innocence,
Like lightning on a summer's eve,
It dances round the dimpled cheek,
And tells of happiness within; It smiles what it can never speak,
A human heart devoid of sin.
BY W. G. CLARK.
'T is sweet, to remember! I would not forego
The charm which the Past o'er the Present can throw,
For all the gay visions that Fancy may weave
In her web of illusion, that shines to deceive.
We know not the future,—the past we have felt,—
Its cherished enjoyments the bosom can melt;
Its raptures anew o'er our pulses may roll,
When thoughts of the morrow fall cold on the soul.
'T is sweet, to remember! When storms are abroad,
'Tis sweet to remember! When friends are unkind,—
Then, to draw back the veil which envelopes a land,
'T is sweet, to remember! And naught can destroy
B Y J. G. WHITTIER.
Land of the forest and the rock—
Of dark blue lake and mighty river—
My own green land for ever!
NEW ENGLAND. 179
Or mark the stranger's jaguar hand
Disturb the ashes of thy dead— The buried glory of a land
Whose soil with noble blood is red, And sanctified in every part,—
Nor feel resentment, like a brand, Unsheathing from his fiery heart!
Oh! greener hills may catch the sun
Beneath the glorious heaven of France
Like life beneath the day-beam's glance,
Bear record of another time,
The green luxuriant ivy climb; And far toward the rising sun
The palm may shake its leaves on high, Where flowers are opening, one by one,
Like stars upon the twilight sky,
Above the broad banana stray,
A thousand bright-hued pinions play!