GLOW-WORM. 155 



Sweet child of stillness, mid the awful calm 



Of pausing Nature thou art pleased to dwell^ 

 In happy silence to enjoy thy balm, 



And shed through life a lustre round thy cell. 



How different man, the imp of noise and strife, 

 Who courts the storm that tears and darkens life ! 

 Blest when the passions wild the soul invade ! 

 How nobler far to bid those whirlwinds cease, 

 To taste, like thee, the luxury of peace, 

 And shine in solitude and shade ! 



To the Glow-worm: 

 BY Mrs. Op IE. 



Gem of the lone and silent vale, 



Treasure of evening's pensive hour ! 



1 come thy fairy rays to hail, 



I come a votive strain to pour. 



Nor chilly damps, nor paths untrod. 



Shall from thy shrine my footstep fright; 



Thy lamp shall guide me o'er the sod. 



And cheer the gathering mists of night. 



Again the yellow fire impart; 



Lo ! planets shed a mimic day ; 

 Lo ! vivid meteors round me dart ; 



On western clouds red light'nings play ! 



