The New Hampshire Gazette

Miscellaneous Repository.
From the N. York Weekly Museum.

TO A STREAM.

GENTLY falling murmuring stream,
Gliding like a summer's dream,
Teach the passions of my soul
Uniformly thus to roll;
Hush the cares that fill my breast.
Soothe my anxious thoughts to rest.
But, fair stream, to me in vain-
Thy murmurs echo through the plain;
Though soft and sweet, they cannot heal
The tender cares I daily feel,
While doomed to wander through the grove,
Alone and absent from my love.
Through the meadow's night and day
Steady thou pursuest thy way,
Whispering in the pensive ear,
That delights to wander near,
Tender trains of infant love,
Thoughts of joy we hope to prove.--
Now down the hill I see thee stray,
And now through meadows lead thy way,
Till thy maze is run at last,
And the hill and mead is past,
Thou join'st the sea at yonder shore,
And then art known to us no more:--
Thus down the stream of life I glide,
O! how rapid is the tide!
Through the scenes of joy and woe
Onward till I'm doomed to go,
Till past this sublunary coat,
In futurity I'm lost.

AMICUS.