Our Susan, the baby that clung to thy knee,
   And prattled around thee in infantine glee,
   Has grown up, she’s married and two blooming boys
   Have stirred in her bosom a fountain of joys.

   You start and exclaim, can the story be true! 
   I fear that you’ll stay till she’s grandmother, too. 
   You’ve staid for our infants to grow up and wed,
   Our young men are old, our old ones are dead.

   Yes, white hairs are clustering round many a crown,
   Which wore, when you left them, rich tresses of brown. 
   One dear faithful sister has faded-and died,
   Don’t stay till the others both lie by her side.

   At night I behold thee, I laugh and I weep,
   Alas!  I awake, ’tis the vision of sleep;
   Disheartened with pleading, and pleading in vain,
   Perhaps I may never entreat you again.

A SISTER’S DEPARTURE.

   I saw the tear trembling in sister’s blue eye,
   In bright smiles she vailed it, full well I knew why. 
   That moment stern duty had called us to part,
   Emotion was struggling for vent in her heart.

   She asked, “will some angel in mercy descend,
   And from all afflictions each loved one defend? 
   Or must pain and sickness make sweet home forlorn? 
   Will death send an arrow, ere I shall return?”

   Dear sister, my thoughts did in unison flow,
   My heart will be with you wherever you go;
   By day, in my fancy, thy image I see,
   And sleep brings refreshment when dreaming of thee.

A SISTER’S COUNSEL.

   “Be cheerful,” thou saidst; that sweet sentence I heard,
   Though filled with emotion, I spake not a word;
   ’Twas music, more soothing than steals through the trees
   With green tresses waving in twilight’s cool breeze.

   “Be cheerful,” thou saidst, when about to depart. 
   In tones that said plainly, we come from the heart. 
   We think of thee sister, when absent or here,
   And wish not thine eye to be dimmed by a tear.

   “Be cheerful,” thou saidst, but, O how can I be,
   When thou, my dear sister, art absent from me? 
   Sweet home looks so vacant, so lonely and drear,
   I cannot be cheerful as when thou art here.

   “Be cheerful,” thou saidst, when about to depart,
   And conscious that grief was oppressing my heart. 
   I thank thee, my sister, thy counsel was good,
   I fain would obey thee, I wish that I could.

LINES

To A friend on parting.

   Julia, let fond remembrance cling
     Around the parting hour;
   Unfading let that garland be,
     Late plucked from friendship’s bower.

   Lurid and dark our path would be,
     Uncheered by friendship’s rays;
   Incense divine, thy hallowed flame
     Lights up our darkest days.