* * * * * THE LOST LAMB. BY DELTA. A shepherd laid upon his bed, With many a sigh, his aching head, For him--his favourite boy--on whom Had fallen death, a sudden doom. "But yesterday," with sobs he cried, "Thou wert, with sweet looks, at my side, Life's loveliest blossom, and to-day, Woes me! thou liest a thing of clay! It cannot be that thou art gone; It cannot be, that now, alone, A grey-hair'd man on earth am I, Whilst thou within its bosom lie? Methinks I see thee smiling there, With beaming eyes, and sunny hair, As thou were wont, when fondling me, To clasp my neck from off my knee! Was it thy voice? Again, oh speak, My boy, or else my heart will break!" Each adding to that father's woes, A thousand bygone scenes arose; At home--a field--each with its joy, Each with its smile--and all his boy! Now swell'd his proud rebellious breast, With darkness and with doubt opprest; Now sank despondent, while amain Unnerving tears fell down like rain: Air--air--he breathed, yet wanted breath-- It was not life--it was not death-- But the drear agony between, Where all is heard, and felt, and seen-- The wheels of action set ajar; The body with the soul at war. 'Twas vain, 'twas vain; he could not find A haven for his shipwreck'd mind; Sleep shunn'd his pillow. Forth he went-- The noon from midnight's azure tent Shone down, and, with serenest light, Flooded the windless plains of night; The lake in its clear mirror show'd Each little star that twinkling glow'd; Aspens, that quiver with a breath, Were stirless in that hush of death; The birds were nestled in their bowers; The dewdrops glitter'd on the flowers; Almost it seem'd as pitying Heaven A while its sinless calm had given To lower regions, lest despair Should make abode for ever there; So tranquil--so serene--so bright-- Brooded o'er earth the wings of night.