Thy Birth Day [pp. 465-466]

Thy Birth Day.
Burying his face in the long grass growing upon the grave, he sobbed, rather
than said, in a hoarse and broken voice:
" Farewell youth! farewell happiness!
farewell dream of my boyhood! The
earth is dreary since you went away.
Farewell until we meet again!"
JOHN ESTEN COOKE.
Richmond, May 23d, 1859.
".' And t he heart of GEORGE,
Born in Westmoreland, Virginia, the 22d of
February, 1732:
Died the same day and hour, May the
9tli, 1749.
As the stranger finished the addition
to the inscription, two tears rolled down
his cheeks, and fell upon the stone.
THY BIRTH DAY.
BY WILLIAM C. RICHARDS.
Of all tile year, the welcomest day,
That dawns on me,'twixt May and May,
Is that which dawns just half the way.
Though drear the month it tushlers in,
With early snows and winds' wild din,
I bless the day its storms begin.
Thy birth-day, darling, can not be,
Aught but a dlay of joy to me,
Though clou(ls upon the sky we see.
Auspicious stars upon it glow,
Where the bold Hunter* bends his bow,
Though veiled firomn our dull eyes below.
Thrice happy stars, that fiom the crest
Of Heaven's blue arch, thy slumber blest,
Folded on thy pale mother's breast.
They are not changed-those glittering spheres,
Shining the same over all thy years;Through all thy change, from infant tears.
To childhood's glee; to bashful youth;
To woman's love; to wedlock's truth;
To sweet maternal joy-then, ruth!
To thick'ning mounds upon the sod;
To deep'ning humbleness to God,
The blossomed beauty of His rod.
To matron graces, dearer farThan memories of thy bride-days are,
As grows more bright fair Evening's star.
I bless the gentle hand of Timne,
Which leads thee up to Life's sweet prime,
As one a wood-crown'd hill might climnb.
* Sagittarius.
VOL. XXIX-30
465
1859.]