Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: POETICAL REMAINS. TO MY MOTHER. Mother ! thou bidd'st me touch the lyre, And wake its sweetest tones for thee; To kindle fancy's dying fire, And light the torch of poetry. Mother! how sweet the word, how pure, As if from heaven the accents came; If aught can rouse the dormant soul, It is that cherish'd, honour'd name. Deep in the heart's recess it dwells; It lives with being's earliest dawn; With reason's light expands and swells, And dies with parting life alone. Mother! 'tis childhood's first essay, Breathed in its trembling tones of love; It lights the heart, through life's long way, And points to holier worlds above ! It is a name, whose mighty spell Can draw the chain'd affections forth, Ca rouse the feelings from their cell, And give each purer impulse birth. Then will I wake my sleeping muse, And strive to breathe my thoughts in song, Though sweetest strains must fail to speak The heart's affections, deep and strong. PRIDE AND MODESTY. Just where a wild and rapid stream Roll'd back its waves in seeming pride, Flowers of each softly varying hue Were sweetly blooming, side by side. Shaded by many a bending tree, Their glowing cups with dew-drops fill'd, Nature's fair daughters blushing stood, And all their fragrant sweets distill'd. Oh, 'twas a wild and lovely spot, Which well might seem a spirit's home ! A lone retreat, a noiseless grot, Where earth's rude blasts could never come. Within a broad and open glade, A tulip spread its gaudy hue, While, 'neath the myrtle's clustering shade, A sweetly-drooping lily grew. As the light zephyrs o'er them swept, And heighten'd many a rosy glow, A strange, deep murmur round them crept, Like distant music, wild and low. 'Twas the gay tulip...