The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1840-10-23 00:00:00

RESIGNATION

(For the Liverpool Standard.)
Oft have I stood in sad survey,
To see, with heavy heart.
My brightest prospects melt away,
My fondest hopes depart.

Oft bath the world beguiled my care,
And laughed my fears to scorn,
When, like the rose that blooms in air,

It but concealed a thorn.
Oft have I gazed along the roll

Of crowded years to come,
When o'er my flowery landscape stole
The shades of adverse gloom.

Ah ! then how hard to check the sigh
And quell the rising thought,
To give the world a calm reply,
Nor murmur at my lot.

Oh I could my weary spirit rise,
And leave those cares behind,
To breath the air of purer skies,
And be to all resigned.

The gift of inward peace who knows,
Unmoved by noise or strife,
1 without a ripple flows
the strea►n of life.

Oh ! peace divine, thyself impart,
The blissful calm bestow ;
In resignation mould my heart
To all things here below
Liverpool, Oct. 1840

H. M. HANSUROW

THE FALLING LEAF.

(For the Liverpool Slandard.)
Hear the leaves when withered falling,

How solemnly they tell
More than volumes, gently calling,
How soon, alas ! we fail.
Thus shall ye, when time has ended

Your busy flattering day;
The fairest mortal must be blended
With his parent mouldering clay.
But when the changing seasons here

Shall end in final doom,
Beyond the grave shall then appear
An endless spring to come.

'Tis only then a Sun shall rise.
When changing scenes are o'er,
And spread its glories thro' the skies,
To set iu clouds no more
erpool, Oct. 1840

H. M. HANSBROII

WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN!

(For the Liverpool Standard.)

'Twas in an old oak chamber,

And some laughing girls were there,
Who braided orange blossoms

In a blushing playmate's Lair.
A snowy veil they o'er her cast.
And led her to the door;
She left that old oak chamber—

Her girlhood's time was o'er.
And oh ! she looked so beautiful
Amidst her hope and fear,
With her smiles that burst like sunshine
Through many a shining tear ;
3lethought she like a lily seemed,
Which floats on some bright stream;
How blest was I ! that bride was mine—
But only in a dream. . .

It might have been !

And as she left her mother's home
The village chimes were heard,
Mingling with the scent of flowers

And voice of many a bird.
The young came forth from every porch
To see her as she passed—
The old to bless her gentle face,
And look perhaps their last.
Then round the altar's rail we stood,
And there she vowed, through life,
To eling in weal, to cling in woe
The girl became a wife !
Oh ! day for which the heart long yearn'd
Burst in that vision's gleam ;
My first, my only love was mine—
Was mine, but in a dream.
It might have been!

The eye from dreary wastes delights
To gaze on spots of green ;
So thro' my troubled life love I ;
To thought bring back that scene,
Its bare remembrance softens yet
The draught in sorrow's glass—
Tho' I can never dare to hope
That dream will come to pass.
My falsehood wrung her loving heart,
And faded her fair brow;
But has she not been well revenged
By that which parts us now?
I live to feel I love her still,
Tho' cold to all I seem ;
Had I been true, how well I know
What would have been no—dream t
It might have been !
J. SToNsnouss