MY THOUGHTS TO-NIGHT.

I sit by the fire musing,

With sad and downcast eye,

And my laden breast gives utt'rance

To many a weary sigh;

Hushed is each worldly feeling,

Dimmed is each day-dream bright —

O heavy heart, can'st tell me

Why I'm so sad to-night?

‘ Tis not that I mourn the freshness

Of youth fore'er gone by —

Its life with pulse high springing,

Its cloudless, radiant eye —

Finding bliss in every sunbeam,

Delight in every part,

Well springs of purest pleasure

In its high ardent heart.

Nor yet is it for those dear ones

Who've passed from earth away

That I grieve — in spirit kneeling

Above their beds of clay;

O, no! while my glance upraising

To yon calm shining sky,

My pale lips, quivering, murmur,

“They are happier than I!”

But, alas! my spirit mourns

As, weary, it looks back —

Finding naught of good or holy

On life's past barren track —

I mourn for the countless errors

That on mem'ry' s page crowd on,

And sorrow for lost chances

Of good I might have done.

But, courage! I must arouse me,

The day is not yet o'er,

And I still may make atonement

Ere leaving life's last shore:

One act of meek oblation,

A tear of penance bright,

Will be counted as rare treasures

In heaven's loving sight.