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THE SECLUSION OF BASIL.
THE good man mourn'd that sin pursu'd him still,
That while he lov'd the good he chose the ill;
A kindling anger at his follies burn'd,
And sadly from the world his steps he turn'd;
The pathless desert, brown and barren, sought,
And gave himself to prayer and holy thought.
But still he wept and sigh'd—"I fled from sin,
And sinful man, and lo! it lurks within!
I from the world and all its snares did part,
But ah! the tempter lingers in my heart."
THE FIRST MORNING OF MAY.
MAY! I hail thy first-born morning,
Every charm its brow adorning,
Zephyrs sporting, music waking,
Streams their icy fetters breaking,
