May sweetest dews and warmest ray
Lie on thine early grave t
Whon damps boneuth and storms above
Have bowed these framile towers,
Still o'er the graves yon lecust grove
Shall swing its Omen flowers ;
And [ would ask no mouldering bust,
If eer this hamble line,
Which breathed a sigh o’er others' dust,
Might call a tear on mine,
TO AN INSECT
The Katydid is “a species of grasshopper found in the United States. so eullod from the sound which it makes.” WorcEsrEr.
IT used to hear this insect in Proyvidcnes, Rhode Island, but I de not remember hearing it m Cambridge, Massachnsstis, where I passed my boyhood. It is well known in other towns in the neighborhood of Boston.
I love to hear thine earnest voice,
Wherever thou art hid,
Thou testy little dogmatist,
Thou pretty Katydid!
Thou mindest me of gentlefolks,—
Old gentlefolks are they,—
Thou say'st an undisputed thing
In such a solemn way.
Thou art a female, Katydid!
I know it by the trill
That quivers through thy piercing notes,
So petulant and shrill;
I think there is a knot of you
Beneath the hollow tree,—
A knot of spinster Katydids,—
Do Katydids drink tea?
Oh, tell me where did Katy live,
And what did Katy do?
And was she very fair and young,
And yet so wicked, too?
Did Katy love a naughty man,
Or kiss more cheeks than one?
I warrant Katy did no more
Than many a Kate has done.
Dear me! I'll tell you all about
My fuss with little Jane,
And Ann, with whom I used to walk
So often down the lane,
And all that tore their locks of black,
Or wet their eyes of blue,—
Pray tell me, sweetest Katydid,
What did poor Katy do?
Ah no! the living oak shall crash,
That stood for ages still,
The rock shall rend its mossy base
And thunder down the hill,
Before the little Katydid
Shall add one word, to tell
The mystic story of the maid
Whose name she knows so well.
Peace to the ever-murmuring race!
And when the latest one
Shall fold in death her feeble wings
Beneath the autumn sun,
Then shall she raise her fainting voice,
And lift her drooping lid,
And then the child of future years
Shall hear what Katy did.
THE DILEMMA
Now, by the blessed Paphian queen,
Who heaves the breast of sweet sixteen :
By every name I eut on bark
Before my morning star grew dark ;
By Hymen’s torch, by Cupid’s dart,
By all that thrilis the beating heart ;
The bright black eye, the melting blue, —
TI cannot ehoose between the two.
I had « vision in my dreams ;—
I saw arow of twenty beams ;
From every beam a rope was hung,
In every rope a lover swung ;
I asked the hne of every eye
That bade each Inckless lover die ;
Ten shadowy lips said, heavenly blue,
And ten accused the darker hua.
T asked a matron which she deemed
With fairest light of beauty heamed ;
She answered, some thonght both were
fair, —
Give her blue eyes and golden hair,
I might have liked her judgment well,
But, asx she spoke, she rung the bell,
And all her girls, nor small ner few,
Came marubing in, — their eyes were blue,
T asked a maiden ; back she flung
The locks that round her forehead hung,
