So in her closet, meditating sad,
The mother reasons, while a sombrous cloud,
Gradual succeeding the effulgent glow
Of hope, o'er the adventurer's youthful
cheek

In pallid silence steals. Again he pats
His darling rover, visits yet again
Fach favour'd haunt, bids a renew'd adieu
To the old nurse, his confident, or hind,
Who hid the lapses of his boyish hours,
And shar'd his hoarded apples Now he parts
Among his playmates keepsakes, be they
spoils

Torn from the plunder'd wanderers of air,
Marbles or tops, the wicket and the bat,
Each token of adroitness, precious late,
And with regret resign'd. His sadden'd
heart

Feels these divestments; and the world unknown,

So beauteous once, looks blank, a naked void

Of cach delight, to habit or to love
Most dear. But at the door the neighing

steed

Gives summons dire. He turns: Is this a time

For weak irresolution? "Yet to view
A mother's tears, and bid farewel. O task
Impossible! Will not to-morrow's dawn
Conduct her to my pillow, to inquire
If I am well, or chide my sluggishness ?
To-morrow's sun will rise, but from that
voice 1

And smile, than day more cheerful, I forlorn

Shall rove in banishment. O most belov'd, Most honour'd! Is she silent? Does she fear

Her sorrows will unman me that she checks
Her faltering voice, nor washes with one tear
The parting kiss,while on my head her hand
Is press'd in benediction, and her eyes
Rais'd in mute awe to heaven. Farewel!"
'Tis spoke,

And forth he rushes. Now unsluic'd his griefs,

Long painfully restrain'd, in torrents burst, Soon check'd by decent pride, as with a speed

That speaks his diffidence, he eager posts Along the destin'd road, and fears to turn; Till from the summit of the hill, whose bourne

Shuts from his view that bower of bliss by

Bound o'er those fields. He gazes till his

eves

Ache with impassion'd vision. What! no

more

Must he return?" Yes, sothing hope replies,

"Thou shalt return, laden with wealth and fame

And thy return shall be a festival
Of gratulating bliss, a holiday

Of social transport. But go, first pursue The path which duty points." Sighing, he yields,

And speeds his pilgrimage along the vale.

So on the top of fountful Pisgah stood Moses, the man of God, who faithful led The wandering tribes, permitted thence to view

That rest so long desir'd, and now denied
By special interdiction, for his sin
At Meribah. The palms of Jericho
He saw, and Jordan, like a silver line
Parting the realm of Sihon from the lot
Of Benjamin. O'er Sibma, rich in vines
And flowers, he glanc'd, to where the ut-

most sea

Wash'd Dan and Ephraim. On the south he saw

Th'Asphaltic lake, dire monument of wrath Eternal, and the heights of Lebanon, Whose cedars seem'd to touch the bending clouds,

Skirted his northern view. Such wond'rous pow'r

Of vision God afforded, to console
Him he in love rebuk'd. Ere call'd to die,
He saw thee, promis'd Canaan, fertile then
Beyond all other lands; and once again
Did he behold thee, when on Tabor's top
Glorious he stood, and commun'd with Him,
Seen in the burning bush, of whom hế
spake,

Prophetical Messiah, come to lead
Lost Israel to the ever-during rest
Of heav'nly Canaan.

May that rest he thine, Young wanderer! and thy earthly father's house

Thy mother's fondness, and the social joys Fraternal friendship yielded, be supplied (Thy mortal journey done) by the large

courts

Of thy eternal sire, whose love transcends A mother's; there in fellowship most pure, Mayst thou embrace thy brethren, the redeem'd

Gather'd from every people, clime and age.' [To be concluded in our next.]

rend,

Wisely, while yet you may, the contest

cease,

Ah lovely boy! the light possess'd by thee, On thy fair sister couldst thou but co. 1 fer;

In thee a perfect Cupid we should see;
A perfect Venus then behold in her!

JUVENIS.