‘Oh no! and when I watched by thee the while, And saw thy bright lip curling in thy dream, And thought of the dark stream In my own land of Egypt, the deep Nile, How prayed I that my fathers’ land might be An heritage for thee! ‘And now the grave for its cold breast hath won thee, And thy white, delicate limbs the earth will press; And oh! my last caress Must feel thee cold, for a chill hand is on thee. How can I leave my boy, so pillowed there Upon his clustering hair!’ She stood beside the well her God had given To gush in that deep wilderness, and bathed The forehead of her child until he laughed In his reviving happiness, and lisped His infant thought of gladness at the sight Of the cool plashing of his mother’s hand. JEPHTHAH’S DAUGHTER. She stood before her father’s gorgeous tent, To listen for his coming. Her loose hair Was resting on her shoulders, like a cloud Floating around a statue, and the wind, Just swaying her light robe, revealed a shape Praxiteles might worship. She had clasped Her hands upon her bosom, and had raised Her beautiful, dark, Jewish eyes to heaven, Till the long lashes laid upon her brow. Her lip was slightly parted, like the leaves Of a half-blown pomegranate; and her neck, Just where the cheek was melting to its curve, With the unearthly beauty sometimes there, Was shaded as if light had fallen off, Its surface was so polished. She was quelling Her light, quick breath, to hear; and the white rose Scarce moved upon her bosom as it swelled, Like nothing but a wave of light in dreams, To meet the arching of her queenly neck. Her countenance was radiant with love. She looked like one to die for it; a being Whose whole existence was the pouring out Of rich and deep affections. I have thought A brother’s and a sister’s love was much. I know a brother’s is, for I have loved A trusting sister; and I know how broke The heart may be with its own tenderness. But the affection of a delicate child For a fond father, gushing as it does With the sweet springs of life, and living on Through all earth’s changes like a principle, Chastened with reverence, and made more pure By early discipline of light and shade,-- It must be holier!