The night it passed, and the hour to part With the morning winged away, And I felt an anguish at my heart That vainly bid to stay. I thanked the old man for all he did, And I took his daughter's hand, But my heart was full, and I could not bid Farewell to my Peggy Band. A blessing on that friendly cot, Where the soldier found repose, And a blessing be her constant lot Who soothed the stranger's woes. I turned a last look at the door, As she held it in her hand, And my heart ached sore, as I crossed the moor, For to leave my Peggy Band. TO A BROOK Sweet brook! I've met thee many a summer's day, And ventured fearless in thy shallow flood, And rambled oft thy sweet unwearied way, 'Neath willows cool that on thy margin stood, With crowds of partners in my artless play-- Grasshopper, beetle, bee, and butterfly-- That frisked about as though in merry mood To see their old companion sporting by. Sweet brook! life's glories then were mine and thine; Shade clothed thy spring that now doth naked lie; On thy white glistening sand the sweet woodbine Darkened and dipt its flowers. I mark, and sigh, And muse o'er troubles since we met the last, Like two fond friends whose happiness is past. PROSE FRAGMENTS A CONFESSION OF FAITH My creed may be different from other creeds, but the difference is nothing when the end is the same. If I did not expect and hope for eternal happiness I should be ever miserable; and as every religion is a rule leading to good by its professor, the religions of all nations and creeds, where that end is the aim, ought rather to be respected than scoffed at. A final judgment of men by their deeds and actions in life is inevitable, and the only difference between an earthly assize and the eternal one is, that the final one needs no counsellors to paint the bad or good better or worse than they are. The Judge knows the hearts of all men, and the sentence may be expected to be just as well as final, whether it be for the worst or the best. This ought to teach us to pause and think, and try to lead our lives as well as we can. ESSAY ON POPULARITY "Rumour and the popular voice Some look to more than truth, and so confirm Opinions." CARY'S Dante.