P O .as q 3 z .

From the Louisville Journal
FOREST MELODIES.
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I love the fine Old forest,


That for centuries hath stood,
And waved lis lofty branches


Grandly in the solitude;
Mid its glorcs and its graces,


y stately grandeur dwel|s;
And Natures hand there traces
All her bright and magic spells.
lis shades are full of voices,


Ever ringing Joyous out;
From its trembling whispering brea'hlnss
To the storm's wild boisterous shout
And its notes, so deeply thrilling,
From the dark recesses start,
And swell through ether, stlling
The quick beatings Of the heart.
When the gorgeous robe Of spring time
Hath arrayed them in lis green,
And the leaves are bright with w-drops,
Glancing in the mornings sheen;
Then ITS full enchanting chorus
With rapture we have heard,
For the songs are round and DER us
OF each gladstone forest bird.
Or when the sere of Autumn


Hath fastened on the leaf,
And clad the Summer glories


With the fading garb of grief;
One lealful strain of sorrow


will thy songsters sadly chime,
Ere they fit on the morrow


To some far and sunny cline
We have heard the gentle zephyrs
Stealing through the waving boughs,
With a melody enhancing


As the maiden's whispered vows,
And the storm wind, as it rushes
In its wild and mad career,
The bravest bosom bushes


Toa solemn awe and fear.
Fen the frosty reign of Winter
Hath a cheerful minstrelsy,
AS the ice of morning falleth
From the tall and stately tree.
And the heart can feel no power,
In the poets sweetest lay,
Like the music of the shower
In some Summers sultry day.
Oh! / loye the brave old forest,
That for centuries hath stood,
And waved its lofty branches
Grandly in the solitude!
My home is in its bosom,


Where no human foot hath trod;
My companion the wild blossom,
And my trust in Natures God.


