To Nature he was nearer God;-Oh why
Should Civilization, bringing precious gifts

Of knowledge, wealth, ease, beauty, power, bring too
What turns them all to lures and counterfeits !-

Why set

up idols false and frail as clay

To sit like adamant upon the heart—

Fashion, Convention, Habit-all that stands

Between us and our Maker! Why with wants
And cares and aims innumerous oversow
The field of fellowship till man to man
Is enemy! Why knit Earth's utmost bounds,
Yet dig a gulf within the walls of home!

Alas! we walk amid the flood of light

Darkling, with footsteps base and foreheads bent,
Seeking some pleasure's gaud, or folly's toy,
Some golden profit, or some fortune-charm-
Selfish the search, and selfishness the end;
We will not lift our eyes or lend our ears,
Though Nature from the circling universe
Call with her many voices grand and sweet;
Though borne on Time's swift car there pass us by
Great Destinies and lofty Needs demanding
Achievement at our hands, and human Love
Pass sorrowing, and Love divine reproach
In pity our lost worship;-what to us

The old faith, and simple aims, and childlike trust,
And patriot virtue, and firm brotherhood,

Patience and self-denial !-they are names;

Their substance would but choke the stream of

life,

Let them then leave their semblance here and go!

Yet-yet, not all is fled, for though above
The smooth false levels of our social state,
Some crime colossal deep-engendered there,
As rise the corals in Pacific seas,

Rears oft its head to startle and annoy;

Still see colossal Virtue rising too!

Witness his honoured name1 who in a day

When Poverty is Vice, and Gold is God,

Stripped him of half his wealth's rich robe to clothe
His naked brethren: little need he care

For prudent tongues that mid the forced acclaim,
Whispered-'Tis strange-'tis foolish-he is mad.
And he too, foremost hero of our time,

Hero of Aspromonte not the less

Than of Marsala; they adjudge him mad,
The man of calm clear mind, because he went
Straight to his heart's pure purpose, heedless all
Of Statecraft's rule and Priestcraft's interdict;
Because he trusted to his fellow-men,

Declared their right, and bade them but assert

Their power to have whate'er their right comprised :-
Go, measure then the Sun's ecliptic path

With your base ell-wand ere you measure him!
Great now as ever when you deem him fallen;-
He falls, and doth Italia rise? Ye fools
Who sigh for Venice-Rome, yet dare not let
Your pulse beat warm enough to nerve your arm,
Talk on-wait on, poor diplomates, and dream
That to your feeble heads there will be given
What with your craven hearts ye could not win!

GEORGE PEABODY.

TO GERTRUDE, ON OUR BIRTHDAY.

I.

SUNSET'S ruby flames are glowing
In the tall and leafy limes,
While the south-wind softly flowing
Brings the Convent's vesper-chimes.

Sleep is nestling in the flowers,
Coolness fans the level lawn,

And a veil of happy hours

'Tween the night and day is drawn.

Fair the morn will be to-morrow
By the evening's rosy sign;-
Let us put by gloom and sorrow,

'Tis our birthday, thine and mine!

'Tis our birthday! we will make it
Bright with song and game and glee;
What's good for thirteen, I take it,
Isn't bad for thirty-three.

I must have them all about me-
All the rays that grace the GEM;
Well I love my G.-don't doubt me—
And we both love E, and M.

Esther with that pretty fashion

In her looks and words and ways;May those Norman eyes long flash on Fair, if changeful, future days!

Mabel, sterling little Saxon,
Quiet, loving, arch and kind,

She will bear Time's worst attacks on
Life, with calm and cheerful mind!

They shall come, and all the others,

Yours and theirs of home's sweet ringGood Papa, Mamma, and brothers

I, alas! have none to bring.

Hail our Birthday! we will show it

For a day of happiness,

And the marmalade shall know it,
And the ivory keys confess!

II.

"Tis indeed our birthday, dearest, Gertie, faithful little heart,

Here our lines of life run nearest,

But from hence how wide they part!

From the summit of existence

Granite-bare, I look around;

Thou art in the purple distance

Where the lilies deck the ground.

I can see, where nought can hide them,

Peaks that lured me from the plain;
Passion's mist had magnified them,
I have scaled them—they are vain.

Soon must I with swifter motion
Downward bend, and humbly go

To that shoreless silent ocean
Where is never ebb or flow.

Thou, fair child, shalt journey gently,
Only good as fair remain-

Only heed not too intently

Flowers of pleasure, thorns of pain.

Though our destined paths divide us,
Brighter, surer, still be thine!

And the love that once allied us,

Long shall shed its light on mine.

III.

It is midnight; clouds are flitting
Over heaven's sepulchral deep,

And the Moon, pale Witch, high sitting,
Counts the shadows as they sweep.

See, she calls them to their places,
Gliding ghosts.of buried years,

Dim but unforgotten faces

Gay with smiles, or dark with tears!