James McCauley

How sad the breath of autumn sighs,
With mourning and decay;
The woods are clothed in varying dyes,
Of funeral array.
...

Dear sister, has thy little son,
Been snatched from thy embrace,
Thy fav'rite child, thy darling one,
Has left a vacant place.
...

Awake and sing, for early Spring
Comes forth with beauty gay,
With joy elate, both small and great
Now bless the happy day.
...

As early youth in brightness vies,
With advent of the day,
When Sol first opes his golden eyes,
And chases night away.
...

Youth's the time; Youth's the season!
Learn and labor while you may,
Hear the voice of age and reason,-
Work to-day.
...

Enraptured thoughts intuitive,
Make haste to greet thy page.
Melodious with sweet accord,
And classic too with age.
...

He needs no monument, no marble pile,
'Tis vain thus to commemorate a name
That must endure in noble grandeur while
...

When storms arise, and tumults jar,
And wreck this mortal form,
There is a bright, a lovely star,
That shines above the storm.
...