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A SONG OF PITCAIRN’S ISLAND.

  Come, take our boy, and we will go
    Before our cabin door;
  The winds shall bring us, as they blow,
    The murmurs of the shore;
  And we will kiss his young blue eyes,
  And I will sing him as he lies,
    Songs that were made of yore: 
  I’ll sing, in his delighted ear,
  The island-lays thou lov’st to hear.

  And thou, while stammering I repeat,
    Thy country’s tongue shalt teach;
  ’Tis not so soft, but far more sweet
    Than my own native speech;
  For thou no other tongue didst know,
  When, scarcely twenty moons ago,
    Upon Tahite’s beach,
  Thou cam’st to woo me to be thine,
  With many a speaking look and sign.

  I knew thy meaning—­thou didst praise
    My eyes, my locks of jet;
  Ah! well for me they won thy gaze—­
    But thine were fairer yet! 
  I’m glad to see my infant wear
  Thy soft blue eyes and sunny hair,
    And when my sight is met
  By his white brow and blooming cheek,
  I feel a joy I cannot speak.

  Come talk of Europe’s maids with me,
    Whose necks and cheeks, they tell,
  Outshine the beauty of the sea,
    White foam and crimson shell. 
  I’ll shape like theirs my simple dress,
  And bind like them each jetty tress,
    A sight to please thee well;
  And for my dusky brow will braid
  A bonnet like an English maid.

  Come, for the soft, low sunlight calls—­
    We lose the pleasant hours;
  ’Tis lovelier than these cottage walls—­
    That seat among the flowers. 
  And I will learn of thee a prayer
  To Him who gave a home so fair,
    A lot so blest as ours—­
  The God who made for thee and me
  This sweet lone isle amid the sea.

From a volume of American Poetry, William Cullen Bryant.

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[Illustration:  TOMB OF THE POET, WALLER.]

In the churchyard of Beaconsfield, Bucks, stands the above handsome tribute to the memory of the celebrated poet and politician, EDMUND WALLER.  The monument is of marble, with a pyramid rising from the centre, and a votive urn at each corner.  On the east side is a Latin inscription, stating that Waller was born March 30, 1605, at Coleshill, in Hertfordshire; his father being Robert Waller, Esq. (of Agmondelsham in Buckingham, whose family was originally a branch of the Kentish Wallers,[5]) and his mother of the Hampden family; that he was a student at Cambridge; “his first wife was Anne, only daughter and heiress to Edward Banks, twice made a father by his first wife, and thirteen times by his second, whom he survived eight years; he died October 21, 1687.”  The original inscription is by Rymer, and is to be seen in most editions of the poet’s works.  The monument was erected by the poet’s son’s executors, in 1700, and stands on the east side of the churchyard, near the family vault.  The above engraving is from a sketch, obligingly furnished by our Correspondent, W.H. of Wycombe.