40 JOHN^LESPEEANCE. 



once took a high rank amang- cultivated readers, LougrcUow and Emerson showing in a 

 marked manner their appreciation of its merit and value. The long poem is exceedingly rich 

 in apt allusion, graceful comparison, and delicacy of expression. There is hardly a halting 

 line in the M^iole legend, which is full of pretty fancies and tenderly-turned conceits. The 

 drama is quite in keeping with Watson's other work. It is of a graver movild, and the 

 incident, dialogue and grouping of characters are managed with consummate art and 

 taste. The pity of it is that Watson was so soon taken away from us. He was one of the 

 few, that were not born to die. 



On my third visit to Canada, in 1865, I read one evening in the portico of the St. 

 Lawrence Hall, in the Montreal Telegraph, now defunct, the following poem : — 



Good night ! God bless thee, love, wherever thon art, 

 And keep thee, like an infant, in His arms ! 

 And all good messengers that move unseen 

 By eye sin-darkened, and on noiseless wings 

 Carry glad tidings to the doors of sleep, 

 Touch all thy tears to pearls of heavenly joy. 



Oh ! I am very lonely missing thee ; 

 Yet, morning, noon, and night, sweet memories 

 Are nestling round thy name within my heart, 

 Like summer birds in frozen winter woods. 



Good night 1 Good nigltt ! Oh, for the mutual word ! 

 Oh, for the loving pressure of thy hand ! 

 Oh, for the tender parting of thine eyes ! 

 God keep thee, love, wherever thou art ! Good night ! 



II. 



Good night, my love ! Another day has brought 

 Its load of grief and stowed it in my heart, 

 So full already, Joy is crushed to death, 

 And Hope stands mute and shivering at the door. 

 Still Memorj', kind angel, stays within, 

 And will not leave me with my grief alone, 

 But whisjwrs of the happy days that were 

 Made glorious by the light of thy pure eyes. 



Oh ! shall I ever see thee, love, again, 

 My own, my darling, my soul's best beloved, 

 Far more than I had ever hoped to find 

 Of true and good and beautiful on earth ? 

 Oh 1 .shall I never see thee, love, again ? 

 My treasure found and loved and lost, good night. 



IIL 



Good night, my love ! "Without, the wintry winds 

 Make the night sadly vocal ; and within. 

 The hours that danced along so full of joy. 

 Like skeletons have come from out their graves, 



