Page:The Carcanet.djvu/107

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——— There are moments which he calls his own,
Then never less alone than when alone;
Those that he loved so long and sees no more,
Loved and still loves—not dead—but gone before,
He gathers round him; and revives at will
Scenes in his life—that breathe enchantment still—
That come not now at dreary intervals—
But where a light as from the blessed falls,
A light such guests bring ever-pure and holy—
Lapping the soul in sweetest melancholy!
Ah! then less willing (nor the choice condemn)
To live with others than to think on them !
Rogers. 


Nobility is a letter of credit given you by your country, upon the security of your ancestors, in the full security that at a proper period of life, you will acquit yourself with honor for those engaged for you.

Marmontel.


THE WANDERER.

Lady, forgive a stranger rude,
Who thus unbidden, dares intrude
To cheer thy silent solitude,
And ask if hope dwells here.

Oft wandering on the river's brink,
They call thee crazy; but I think
"Tis fate has broke some tender link,
Which draws thy frequent tear.