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A POETICAL ASSAY.

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

I SEIZED my pen in frenzied mood,

Some tuneful strains to write;

But ere their form took fixed shape,

All vanished from my sight.

And long I strove to call again

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Those lines so vague and fair;

And still my mind the blanker grew,

And dark as midnight air.

I looked up to the heaven above,

Then at the earth below;

I dipped my pen again in ink,

But still it was no go.

I sought to aid my tongue-tied muse,

And got a book of hymns;

And lest for words I then should lack,

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