Around her pillow ye have strown fresh flowers, And her small pulseless hand Claspeth white rose-buds, as in childhood's hours, With her own bright-eyed band! III. Upon her pallid lip a smile is set, The spirit's parting boon! Why mourn that flow'rs with heaven's own dew-drops wet Perish before their noon? IV. The soft, dark lashes rest upon her cheek, Like shadows on the snow; Hiding the full blue orbs whose light we seek-- But shall we find?--ah, no! V. There is less beauty in the glowing skies, Less music in the vale; The streams flow onward in a sadder guise, The springs of pleasure fail. VI. Give back the precious dust, so still and fair, Unto the waiting earth! Hallow her couch with song and tearful prayer-- Tributes to love and worth. VII. A flood of radiance from the spirit-land Dispels the gathered gloom; Near to her God the spotless soul shall stand, Forgetful of the tomb! A NIGHT ON LAKE ERIE. BY PETER VON GEIST. NIGHT upon the waters! The blue waves of Old Erie are black, and loud, and angry; and the good ship sits uneasily, as though they were trying by incessant, convulsive throbs to shake the encumbrance from their bosom. The Heavens above are as though a pall were settling down upon us; and the horizon on all sides is marked by a zone of lurid light, like the distant fires of a conflagration. The light-house, far behind us, glimmers like the rising evening star, and its ray flashes along the dim and swelling surface, revealing the wide and heaving waste that intervenes. The strained masts quiver, and the vessel bends like an overmatched, but unyielding gladiator, before the blast. It is a night to make the timid tremble, and the bold to shout out a wild 'Halloo!' to the winds as they sweep past. Onward the barque drives; and I sit myself down on the bowsprit, over the water, and look down on the boiling surges beneath. Eternally, in quick succession, the white-capped waves come foaming in, and hurl themselves against the reeling bow. High are they flung back, in broken fragments, and madly, like grape-shot, is the spray dashed far out on either side. Now the ship rears up her head, as if affrighted and seeking to escape from the encounter, and in a moment she plunges desperately down into the foaming mass, which leaps up to receive her.