II.

As clouds from yonder sun receive A deep and mellow dye, Which scarce the shade of coming eve Can banish from the sky, Those smiles unto the moodiest mind Their own pure joy impart; Their sunshine leaves a glow behind That lightens o'er the heart.

THY DAYS ARE DONE.

Thy days are done, thy fame begun; Thy country's strains record The triumphs of her chosen Son, The slaughters of his sword! The deeds he did, the fields he won, The freedom he restored!