LYRICAL POEMS

"MY HEART LEAPS UP.”

My heart leaps up when I behold
A Rainbow in the sky :

So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a Man;
So be it when I shall grow old,

Or let me die!

The Child is Father of the Man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.

TO A BUTTERFLY.

STAY near me-do not take thy flight! A little longer stay in sight!

Much converse do I find in Thee,

Historian of my Infancy!

Float near me; do not yet depart !

Dead times revive in thee:

Thou bring'st, gay Creature as thou art! A solemn image to my heart,

My Father's Family!

Oh! pleasant, pleasant were the days,
The time, when, in our childish plays,
My Sister Emmeline and I
Together chased the Butterfly!
A very hunter did I rush

Upon the prey :—with leaps and springs
I followed on from brake to bush ;
But she, God love her! feared to brush
The dust from off its wings.

THE SPARROW'S NEST.

BEHOLD, within the leafy shade,
Those bright blue eggs together laid!
On me the chance-discovered sight
Gleamed like a vision of delight.
I started-seeming to espy
The home and sheltered bed,

The Sparrow's dwelling, which, hard by

My Father's house, in wet or dry
My Sister Emmeline and I

Together visited.

She looked at it as if she feared it ;
Still wishing, dreading, to be near it :
Such heart was in her, being then
A little Prattler among men.
The Blessing of my later years
Was with me when a Boy:
She gave me eyes, she gave me ears;
And humble cares, and delicate fears;
A heart, the fountain of sweet tears ;

And love, and thought, and joy.

TO A BUTTERFLY.

I'VE watched you now a full half-hour,
Self-poised upon that yellow flower;
And, little Butterfly! indeed

I know not if you sleep or feed.
How motionless!-not frozen seas
More motionless! and then

What joy awaits you, when the breeze
Hath found you out among the trees,
And calls you forth again!

This plot of Orchard-ground is ours;
My trees they are, my Sister's flowers;

Here rest your wings when they are weary ;

Here lodge as in a sanctuary!

Come often to us, fear no wrong;

Sit near us on the bough!

We'll talk of sunshine and of song;

And summer days, when we were young;
Sweet childish days, that were as long
As twenty days are now.