La Reverie: A Poem

284 IMPROVEMENT ERA. so forcibly without feeling the cogency of his own arguments, paid his visit in a few days, and was denied admission. He had now learned the power of money, and made his way by a piece of gold to the inner apartment, where he found the philosopher in a room half darkened, with his eyes misty, and his face pale. "Sir," said he, "you are come at a time when all human friendship is useless; what I suffer cannot be remedied, what I have lost cannot be supplied. My daughter, my only daughter, from whose tenderness I expected all the comforts of my age, died last night of a fever. My views, my purposes, my hopes are at an end: I am now a lonely being disunited from society." "Sir," said the prince, "mortality is an event by which a wise man can never be surprised: we know that death is always near, and it should therefore always be expected." "Young man," answered the philosopher, "you speak like one that has never felt the pangs of separation. " "Have you then forgot the precepts," said Rasselas, "which you so powerfully enforced? Has wisdom no strength to arm the heart against calamity? Consider that external things are natur- ally variable, but truth and reason are always the same. " "What comfort," said the mourner, ''can truth and reason afford me? of what effect are they now, but to tell me, that my daughter will not be restored?" The prince, whose humanity would not suffer him to insult misery with reproof, went away convinced of the emptiness of rhetorical sound, and tlie inefficacy of polished periods and studied sentences. [to be continued.]

LA REVERIE. (For the Improvement Era.) Seated in my room tonight, By the fireside warm and bright, Outside, all nature hushed in sweet repose, Dame Fancy, ever kind. Takes possession of my mind, And bids me follow her where'er she goes.

LA REVERIE. 28& O'er seas and mountains high, With the speed of thought we fly To the home where as a boy I used to play, And my heart wells o'er with joy, As the moments I employ In dreams of home and loved ones far away. In a quiet, shady spot. Stands a gently sloping cot, A woman's form is standing at the door; 'Tis my mother dear, God bless her! How I hasten to caress her. As her eyes with tears of gratitude well o'er. So we pass to the inside. Where, with arms extended wide, A father waits his "welcome home" to say. Brothers true, and sisters, run To greet—ah, the spell is gone ! I'm but dreaming of the loved ones far away. Once again the Dame leads on — Lo, a maiden sits alone ! A tender, loving lass, with eyes of brown. She has waited, tried and true, With a faith displayed by few. In spite of gossip's tongue, or fashion's frown. As I press her to my heart. How the gentle tear drops start! My promised bride, no more from thee I'll stray. But why do I tremble so? Why, the fire has burned quite low, Vv'hile I'm dreaming of the loved ones far away! Ah, dear loved ones far away, God is with us night and day. Though mountains rise, and seas between us roll. What to Him is time, or space, Who in His infinite grace Ilath called us now, perchance, to save a soul. Let your hearts be filled with joy. Fear not for your absent boy. He is in Christ's path, and from it would not stray; And in the due time of God, When his work is done abroad. He'll return to home and loved ones far away. Salt Lake City, Utah. Lorenzo J. Haddock.