474 
CAROLINE SOUTHEY, 
Peace ! Rest content ! see where, by cliff and dell, 
Past tangled forest paths and silent river, 
The little lustrous creature guides us well, 
And where w r e fail, his small light aids 11 s ever. 
Night’s shining servant ! Pretty star of earth ! 
I ask not why thy lamp doth ever burn; 
Perhaps it is thy very life,—thy mind; 
And thou, if robbed of that strange right of birth, 
Might be no more than Man—when Death doth turn 
His beauty into darkness, cold and blind. 
guhtnw flotoers. 
Caroline Southey. 
rFHOSE few pale Autumn Flowers ! 
How beautiful they are! 
Than all that went before, 
Than all the Summer store, 
How lovelier far! 
And why ?—They are the last— 
The last!—the last!—the last! 
Oh! by that little word, 
How many thoughts are stirr’d! 
That sister of the past! 
