LINES ON HAPPINESS.

_For the Table Book._

Like a frail shadow seen in maze,

Or some bright star shot o’er the ocean,

Is happiness, that meteor’s blaze,

For ever fleeting in its motion.

It plays within our fancied grasp,

Like a phantasmagorian shade,

Pursued, e’en to the latest gasp,

It still seems hovering in the glade.

Tis but like hope, and hope’s, at best,

A star that leads the weary on,

Still pointing to the unpossess’d

And palling that it beams upon.