METHINKS thy gift to wandering bard, Who weaves for thee this careless strain, Will prove an amulet to guard From outward ill and inward pain. Oh, precious is the bud to me! On thy fair bosom once it lay; For richest pearl in Indian sea, I would not barter it away. Thy touch hath made it, leaf and stem, A priceless and a hallowed thing, Meet for Titania's diadem, While dancing in the fairy ring. When faded its voluptuous hue, A _life_ will linger in the flower, That needeth not sustaining dew, Or golden sunshine's nursing power. By day and in the hush of night, Grief's shadow from my brow to chase, Its leaves will summon back to sight Thy graceful form and classic face. Thanks for the gift! its leaflet fair Of thy young heart is emblem sweet; Place in this bosom may it share, When lifeless in my winding-sheet! To the bard's dreamy, gorgeous land In spirit may we often fly, And wander, shadowy hand in hand, Through rose-wreathed halls of fantasy. What nonsense have I written down? I am not self-possessed to-day; On brow the world hath taught to frown, The light of song should never play. Can witch Imagination warm A heart whose passion-streams are dry? Mere man of parchment and of form, And slave of wrangling fools, am I. Should maid, then, blest like thee, require From me the tributary rhyme? The peerless child of laurel'd sire Will share his fame in after time. Thou needest not the praise of one From whom life's romance is receding, Who haunts a land without a sun. The barren realm of special pleading. Farewell! I leave thee with regret, To struggle in the war of life; I would not for a world, forget Thy words of----Hush! I have a wife: And two sweet children, one a boy Who wears the dark hair of his mother, And, full of innocence and joy, A radiant little girl the other. _New-York, June 25, 1843._ WILLIAM H. C. HOSMER. CÀ ET LÀ. BY THE FLANEUR. HERE A LITTLE AND THERE A LITTLE. Now Samson went down to Gaza, To buy up his goods for the season: Quoth Madame: 'Don't make a stay, Sir, And come back with some foolish reason.' OLD AMERICAN BALLAD.