They strove, and in that eager strife Their morning friendship was forgot, And all the joys that sweeten life, The rival bubbles knew them not. The leaves, the flowers, the grassy shore, Were all neglected in the chase, And on their bosoms now no more These forms of beauty found a place. But all was dim and drear within, And envy dwelt where love was known, And images of fear and sin Were traced, where truth and pleasure shone. The clouds grew dark, the tide swelled high, And gloom was o'er the waters flung, But riding on the billows, nigh Each other now the bubbles swung. Closer and closer still they rushed, In anger o'er the rolling river; They met, and 'mid the waters crushed, The rival bubbles burst for ever! Good Night. The sun has sunk behind the hills, The shadows o'er the landscape creep; A drowsy sound the woodland fills, And nature folds her arms to sleep: Good night--good night. The chattering jay has ceased his din-- The noisy robin sings no more-- The crow, his mountain haunt within, Dreams 'mid the forest's surly roar: Good night--good night. The sunlit cloud floats dim and pale; The dew is falling soft and still; The mist hangs trembling o'er the vale, And silence broods o'er yonder mill: Goodnight--good night. The rose, so ruddy in the light, Bends on its stem all rayless now, And by its side the lily white A sister shadow, seems to bow: Good night--good night. The bat may wheel on silent wing-- The fox his guilty vigils keep-- The boding owl his dirges sing; But love and innocence will sleep: Good night--good night! The Mississippi.[A] [Illustration: The Mississippi] I. Far in the West, where snow-capt mountains rise, Like marble shafts beneath Heaven's stooping dome, And sunset's dreamy curtain drapes the skies, As if enchantment there would build her home-- O'er wood and wave, from haunts of men away-- From out the glen, all trembling like a child, A babbling streamlet comes as if to play-- Albeit the scene is savage, lone and wild. Here at the mountain's foot, that infant wave 'Mid bowering leaves doth hide its rustic birth-- Here learns the rock and precipice to brave-- And go the Monarch River of the Earth! Far, far from hence, its bosom deep and wide, Bears the proud steamer on its fiery wing-- Along its banks, bright cities rise in pride, And o'er its breast their gorgeous image fling. The Mississippi needs no herald now-- But here within this glen unknown to fame, It flows content--a bubble on its brow, A leaf upon its breast--without a name! [Illustration: Banks of the Mississippi] II.