SMILE, AND NEVER HEED ME. But still her tongue Far richer music calls to birth And thus she moves in tender light, And sheds a graceful influence round, That ballows e'en the very ground Beneath her feet! SMILE, AND NEVER HEED ME. THOUGH, when other maids stand by, If our love, indeed, be such Where's the use that they should know Smile, and never heed me. Even if, with maiden pride, Smile, and never heed me! I WAITED TILL THE TWILIGHT. I WAITED till the twilight, I strayed along the brook-side, He said, since last we parted, The moment we should meet. He said when first he saw me Life seemed at once divine; Each night he dreamed of angels, And every face was mine: Sometimes a voice, in sleeping, Would all his hopes forbid; And then he wakened, weepingDo you really think he did? THE OLD COTTAGE CLOCK. 213 On the old, old clock of the household stock You'll never rise soon in the morning! A friendly voice was that old, old clock, But a cross old voice was that tiresome clock, When the down looked gray o'er the misty way, Tick, tick, it said-quick, out of bed- You'll never have health, you'll never get wealth, Still hourly the sound goes round and round, While tears are shed for the bright days fled, Its heart beats on-though hearts are gone Its hands still move-though hands we love LIFE. LIFE's not our own-'tis but a loanTo be repaid; Soon the dark Comer's at the door, The debt is due-the dream is o'erLife's but a shade. Thus all decline-that bloom or shine- 'Tis but a little odor shed- Then let us show a tranquil brow, That we upon life's latest brink May look on Death's dark face--and think An angel calls! GERALD GRIFFIN. GERALD GRIFFIN was born in Limerick, December 12, 1803. In 1820 his parents emigrated to the United States, and he went to live with an elder brother at Adare. He had published occasional poems in the Limerick newspapers, and at the age of eighteen wrote a tragedy entitled "Aguire." With this in his pocket, he went to London in 1823, determined to devote himself to literature. He found no market for his tragedy; and another which he wrote, entitled "Gisippus," was equally unfortunate, until after his death it was brought out with great success at Drury Lane. Griffin was compelled to work for the newspapers and periodicals, and scon | became known as a brilliant magazinist. He published "Holland Tide" and "Tales of the Munster Festivals" in 1827, and in 1828 "The Colleen Bawn, or the Collegians," the most celebrated of his novels, which has been dramatized by Boucicault. Among his other works are "The Rivals," "The Duke of Monmouth," and "Tales of the Jury-Room." In 1838 he entered the society of Christian Brothers at Cork, where he died of a fever on June 12, 1840. His complete works in ten volumes (of which the poems and tragedy of "Gisippus" form one volume), with a life by his brother, were published in New York. It is not that my fortunes flee, Nor that my cheek is pale I mourn whene'er I think of thee, Than when I loitered there- And in my knowledge, care. I've lived to know my share of joy, To learn that friendship's self can cloy, To feel a pang and wear a smile, To tire of other climes To like my own unhappy isle, And sing the gay old times! And sure the land is nothing changed, The birds are singing still; The flowers are springing where we ranged, Still sweetly shades my frame- Oh, come again, ye merry times! A PLACE IN THY MEMORY, DEAREST. A PLACE in thy memory, dearest, Is all that I claim, To pause and look back when thou hearest Remember me-not, as a lover As the young bride remembers the mother Oh, dearest! remember me. Could I be thy true lover, dearest, I would be the fondest and nearest But a cloud on my pathway is glooming That never must burst upon thine; And Heaven, that made thee all blooming, Ne'er made thee to wither on mine. Remember me then!-oh, remember! Though bleak as the blasts of November That life will, though lonely, be sweet, If its brightest enjoyment should be, A smile and kind word when we meet, And a place in thy memory. TIME AND ETERNITY. An equal league in danger's hour, And when they point to our fair Isle, My country-then I blush for thee. But Hope says, "Blush or tear shall never But oh! be Scotland honored long, 'TIS, IT IS THE SHANNON'S STREAM. 'TIs, it is the Shannon's stream Brightly glancing, brightly glancing, See, oh see the ruddy beam Upon its waters dancing! Fling thy rocky portals wide, Western ocean, western ocean; Bend, ye hills, on either side, In solemn, deep devotion; On thy bosom deep and wide, Again to wander, never. Let me, from thy placid course, My Heaven-appointed course fulfil, Hail, our own majestic stream, TIME AND ETERNITY. FOR, Stretch to life's extremest span The brilliant course of earthly pleasure, How looks the space assigned to man, Lost in the vast eternal measure! Rank, fortune, love, earth's highest bliss, All life can yield, of sweet or splendid, Are but a thing that scarcely is, When lo! its mortal date is ended! So swift is time, so briefly lost The fleeting joys of life's creation, What seems the present, is the past, Before the mind can mark its station. On earth we hold the spirit blest, That learns to bear affliction cheerly; And what we call, and fancy rest, Is brief annihilation merely. 'Tis vain to say in youthful ears, 217 Time flees, earth fades, with all its pleasures; The ardent heart attentive hears, But naught of transient counsel treasures. 'Tis heavenly grace alone, my child, The fruit of prayer attending duly, Can firmly stem the tumult wild, Of earthly passion rising newly. Then shall we for so brief a world, A speck in Nature's vast dominion, With hope's high banner basely furled, Return to earth with slothful pinion? Forbid it truth, forbid it love, The faithless thought untold should perish, Forbid it all we hope above, And all on earth we know and cherish! YOU NEVER BADE ME HOPE. I. You never bade me hope, 'tis true II. The vow should bind with maiden sighs |