I've not forgot the magic hour When youthful passion first I knew; When early love was in its flower, And bright with ev'ry rainbow hue. Then, fairy visions lightly moved, And waken'd rapture as they pass'd; But faith and love, like yours approved, Give joys that shall for ever last. A spotless wife's enduring love, A darling infant's balmy kiss, Breathe of the happiness above; Too perfect for a world like this. These heaven-sent pleasures seem too pure To take a taint from mortal breath; For, still unfading, they endure 'Mid sorrow, sickness, pain, and death. When cruel Palsy's withering blow Had left my father weak, forlorn, He yet could weep for joy, to know I had a wish'd-for infant born. And, as he lay in death's embrace, You saw when last on earth he smil'd; You saw the ray that lit his face When he beheld our darling child.-- Strange, mingled scene of bliss and pain! That, like a dream, before us flies; Where, 'midst illusions false and vain, Substantial joys are seen to rise.-- When to your heart our babes you fold, With all a mother's joy elate, I fondly think that I behold A vision of our future state. Hope comes, with balmy influence fraught, To heal the wound that rends my heart, Whene'er it meets the dreadful thought That all our earthly ties must part. Bless'd hope, beyond earth's narrow space, Within high Heaven's eternal bound, Again to see your angel face, With all your cherubs clustering round. Oh! yes, there are some beams of light That break upon this world below, So pure, so steady, and so bright, They seem from better worlds to flow. Reflected images are seen Upon this transient stream of Time, Through mists and shades that intervene, Of things eternal and sublime. Then let us rightly learn to know These heavenly messengers of love: They teach us whence true pleasures flow, And win our thoughts to joys above. And e'en when clouds roll o'er our head, Still let us turn our longing eyes To where Eternal Love has spread The changeless azure of the skies. PROPHETIC. [Lines written on the window-glass of an Inn in England during the author's travels through Europe in 1774-5.] BY GULIAN VERPLANCK. Hail happy Britain, Freedom's blest retreat; Great is thy power, thy wealth, thy glory great, But wealth and power have no immortal day, For all things ripen only to decay. And when that time arrives, the lot of all, When Britain's glory, power, and wealth shall fall; Then shall thy sons by Fate's unchang'd decree In other worlds another Britain see, And what thou art, America shall be. LINES [_Suggested by a Perusal of "The Life of Chatterton."_] BY A. L. BLAUVELT.