The Rhode-Island Republican. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1809-1841, 1828-09-18

p o II II r y
STANZAS.

Beamed in full glory round thy mead
We nevor deemed thing so bright
Could die 30 soon ;--and thou art dead
Thou dead and we are left alone,
In ovsrpowering griefto groan.
And whittier, whittier shall we turn
From sorrow that has pierced us through
We meet with none but those who mourn
And vainly ask for comfort too
We weep-thsy wssp--bst hearts that bleed
Far other consolation need
Angel! where from thy throne above,
Thou lookest upon thy cell below,
'Twould break thy blis--'twould wound thy
love,
To SEQ us thus desponding;-noi
Well bear il alias meath thine eye
Iha. now regards US from the sky,
And if some bursting tear should stray
Down our pale cheek--some struggling sigi
Break FORTH we'll wipe that tear away,
That sigh subdue--and smlingly
Look up to heaven, and feel wo share
The bliss unutterable there!
Thou gontle spirit in thy course
There were no rocks, no ruggedness,
Nor strife, nor sorrow, nor romorse
But all was pleasantness and peace,
For all was calmest virtue Thou
Neer gavsst one heart grief till now.
Not long ago thy blue eyes met
The fading sun whom evening spread
It's lines oflight he never set
More calmly than upon thy bed
Ofdeath--as waning when the evon
Wsned, thy young spirit flew to heaven
The autumnal flowers look smiling on,--
There's life aud Joy in field and wood
Yet she who walked their smilos is gone
We wander forth in solitude.
Mock not our woes, sweet flowers, but share
And sympathize with our despair
Despair oh, no tie thoughtless, vain /;
On every field, and flower, and tree,
Well trace that lonely smile again,
Which beamsd upon thom saint! from thee
Yes stars, and flowers, and all that's fair
Thine image holds--thy name shall bear.
Some star that's brighter than the rest,
Some flower whose fragrance never dies,
Shall blend them with thy memory blest,
Shall consecrato thy obsequies;
And hourly as we think of thee,
These shall thy sweet memorial DO.
...-e9e~-
MUSIC AND POETRY -TheLond pa,
pers notice the recert publication of very
tasteful volume OF vocal pieces, entitled "The
Loves Of the Butterflies" tho music composed
by Alexander Lee, and tho poetry by t. IL
Bayley The united talents of these gontle'
men are said to have produced a work OF fan
cful aud lively character, which cannot fail Il
give entire satisfaction to Amateurs Of the
hghtor style Of music. The following is a
specimen Of the poetry.
ROUND MY OWN PRETTY ROSE.
Round my own pretty Rose. have hover'
all day,
way;
Ahoy a'o soho' '"oy "'e a." a. but / 20 nc
with them,
No, linger to weep or the deso,ate stem.
ty uney say rov@ tho south shall meet
WIN huna'oos " Roses more fair and NOR
But my hoe :, wh.n I'm ,onn,,d to wander
H,ysy plies,
''e'S' ny first love-my last love--my onl
,xr love lies.
nen sprang from the homo where m
plumage was hurst,
'Twas my own pretty Rose that attracted IN
first
We have loved oil tho summer, and now tha
the chill
OF the winter come o'or us, I'm true to the
still.
When the last leafis withered and falls to Oh
earth,
The false one to southorly climos may Il
forth
But truth cannot Ay from his sorrow-hc die
Where his fret love--his last love--his onl
love lies.