72 



CASTALIAN HOURS. 



The following sonnets are extracted from " Castalian 

 Hours." We need not apologize to those who have 

 read them for their re-appearance here ; — no one who 

 has perused them once will fail to welcome them 

 again. 



Those who now read them for the first time will 

 probably be induced to look into the volume from 

 which we have taken them. If these sonnets be 

 considered as breathing exalted feeling and pure sen- 

 timent, we can assure the reader that the remainder 

 of the work is not inferior to the little sample now 

 before him. 



We allude to " Castalian Hours " with the more 

 gratification, as the authoress is one of our many 

 Western Worthies. 



SUMMER EVENING. 



" There is no breath of discord in the air; 



No tints, but those of glory, on the sky; — 

 It is a summer sunset ! where all fair 



And lovely things before our vision lie ; 



From the half-sliadowed earth — to where on high 

 The mingling of all colors, rich and rare, 



And deep or bright, is softening on our eye : 

 Who thus can view them, nor beholding share 



The influence of their beauty ? N\'hen the sod, 

 With its wild flowers, is sweetest, and the breeze 

 Floats like a whispered music through the trees, 



In melody of joy? Oh who hath trod 

 Such scene, nor felt his spirit soar from these, 



In silent worship to the Living God ?" 



SONNET. 



"Ye places of deep solitude — whereto 

 I wander, as the Magian did, who sought 

 Majestic Nature's volume, ever fraught 



With power the pondering spirit to renew : 



I too have read those pages bright — I too 

 Studied all forms around me, with a thought 

 Of fervent contemplation, which hath taught 



Unuttered things, their tablets only do. 



