DAWN AND DEATH.

The sobbing winds of winter Lingered sadly round the door, Then ran in mystic meanings Through the dark across the moor; The window panes were streaming With the tears which heaven wept, And a mother sat a-dreaming O'er an infant as it slept: Its little hands were folded; And its little eyes of blue Were clothed in alabaster With the azure peeping through: Its face, so still and star-like, Was as white as maiden snow: And it breathed in faintest ripples, As the wavelets come and go.

The morn in golden beauty Through the lattice gaily peept, But muffled was the window Of the room where darling slept: The mother's heart was breaking Into tears like Summer cloud, For a starry face was circled With a little lily shroud; And a soul from sunny features Like a beam of light had fled: Before her, like a snowdrop, Her miracle lay dead! Ah! 'Twas cruel thus to chasten, Though her loss was darling's gain: And her heart would rifle Heaven Could she clasp her babe again.