When seasons shall weather
The storm that reigns now,
And bright moments gather

A wreath for thy brow!

Hail! new-year of gladness!—
O dawn to our sight-
Bid dark nights of sadness,

Give place to thy light:
Shine on the fair pages,

Where wisdom doth dwell;

And tongues, through all ages,
Thy triumph shall swell!

"ANOTHER YEAR."

"Winter is dark and cold

Where now the charms of Spring?"-SOUTHEY.

I WREATHED Spring's tend'rest flowers,
And held the dew-fringed garland forth-
I dwelt in all her vernal bowers,

And loved to speak abroad her worth:
And Spring, by me

Was cherished, like the soul's first ecstacy.

I saw the Seasons all,

Ope one by one, their gifts to bring;
And Autumn came-when leaves do fall-
With golden stores-but not like Spring,
So blithe and fair;

For beauty's dream must vanish in despair!

At last the cold wind's moan,

Swept o'er our parterres stript of bloom;
And flowers whose fragrance all had flown,
Saw mark'd for them the wint'ry tomb:
Then did appear,

Time hastening on, to close another year.

But list the mellow song,

That still sweet numbers doth unfold,—
Rich are the sounds that float along,
And warm the heart now growing cold;
Henceforth they tell

Of joyful hours, where mirth may deign to dwell.

And heaven's own voice sings tooWhat music hath the echoing sky!— It speaks vain thoughtless man to you, And tells of happier realms, on high Prepared for thee,

Nor Winter there, can blight Eternity!

O thither haste away!

For earth hath no enduring place—

The angel-spirit may not stay,

Whom death hath called to his embrace; Then who shall hear—

Or hail the song-birds of "Another Year?"

ODE TO A FRIEND.

A FRIEND! O 'tis a sound,
That spreads more pleasure 'round
Than heaps of gold and shining toys;
If Friendship's near, she throws
A veil o'er all our woes,
And care, but ripens into joys!

But some, too oft will hold

Friends, for the sake of gold,

And when that's gone, leave them to mourn; So, that man, who would spare

His bliss, with them to share,

Too often meets the same return.

Then since the path, is sown

With thorns, and friendship's grown, Nought but "a name," to light the gay; Need we regret to find,

She leaves us here behind,

When, wealth alone directs her sway?

But hush, my harsh complaint,
All language is too faint,

To picture friendship, I hold dear:
O yes! thy smiles I've loved,
Thy value too I've proved,
And to thy memory shed my tear.

Friendship! I'll not complain,
Nor sigh for thee in vain,
Since I possess a friend in need;
One, who is frank and just-
One, whom I e'er could trust,
Then is not this, a friend indeed?

One, who will soothe my grief-
In trouble bring relief—

And every comfort spread around;

With happiness so near,

May not I banish fear?—

Oh! such a friend, is seldom found!