"The maid, who views, with pensive air, "The show-glass, fraught with glittering ware, "Sees watches, bracelets, rings, and lockets, "But, sighs at thought of empty pockets; "Like thine, her appetite, is keen,—

66

But, ah! the cruel glass between!"

Our dear delights, are often such; Expos'd to view, but, not to touch; The sight, our foolish heart inflamesWe long for pine-apples in frames! With hopeless wish, one, looks, and lingers; One, breaks the glass, and cuts his fingers ;But, they, whom TRUTH, and WISDOM, lead, Can gather honey from a weed.

THE HOUR OF DEATH.

MRS. HEMANS.

Leaves, have their time to fall,

And flowers, to wither at the north-wind's breath, And stars, to set;- -but, all,

Thou hast all seasons for thine own, oh! Death.

Day, is for mortal care,

Eve, for glad meetings round the joyous hearth, Night, for the dreams of sleep, the voice of prayer

But, all, for thee, thou mightiest of the earth.

The banquet, hath its hour,

Its feverish hour of mirth, and song,

and wine:

There comes a day for grief's o'erwhelming

power,*

A time for softer tears-but, all, are thine.

Youth, and the opening rose,

May look like things too glorious for decay,

And smile at thee-but, thou art none of those, That wait the ripen'd bloom, to seize their prey.

We know,

when moons,

shall wane,

When summer birds, from far, shall cross the sea,

When autumn's hue, shall tinge the golden

grain

But, Who shall teach us, when to look for thee!

Is it, when spring's first gale,

Comes forth, to whisper where the violets, lie?

Is it, when roses, in our paths, grow pale?— THEY have one season-all, are OURS-to die!

Thou art, where billows, foam;

Thou art, where music, melts upon the air;

Thou art around us, in our peaceful home; And the world, calls us forth-and thou art there.

Thou art, where friend, meets friend,

Beneath the shadow of the elm to rest;

Thou art, where foe, meets foe, and trumpets,

rend

The skies, and swords, beat down the princely crest.

Leaves, have their time to fall,

And flowers, to wither at the north-wind's breath, And stars, to set;—but, all,—

Thou hast all seasons for thine own, oh! Death.

ADAM'S ACCOUNT OF HIS

FIRST CONSCIOUSNESS OF EXISTENCE.

MILTON.

For man, to tell how human life began, Is hard; for, Who himself beginning knew?As new-wak'd from soundest sleep,

Soft on the flow'ry herb, I found me laid,

In balmy sweat; which, with his beams, the sun,
Soon dried, and on the reeking moisture fed.
Straight, toward heaven, my wond'ring eyes I turn'd,
And gaz'd awhile the ample sky: till rais'd
By quick, instinctive motion, up I sprung,
As thitherward endeavouring; and upright
Stood on my feet. About me round I saw
Hill, dale, and shady woods, and sunny plains,
And liquid lapse of murm'ring streams: by these,
Creatures, that liv'd, and mov'd, and walk'd, or, flew;
Birds, on the branches warbling: all things, smil'd
With fragrance: and, with joy, my heart, o'erflow'd.
Myself I then perus'd, and limb by limb
Survey'd, and sometimes, went, and sometimes, ran
With supple joints, as lively vigour, led.

But, who I was, or, where, or, from what cause,

Knew not. To speak I tried, and forthwith spake; My tongue, obey'd, and readily, could name

Whate'er I saw. "Thou sun," said I, "fair light!
"And thou, enlighten'd earth, so fresh, and gay!
"Ye hills, and dales, ye rivers, woods, and plains!
"And ye, that live, and move, fair creatures! tell,
"Tell, (ifye saw,) HOW CAME ITHUS-HOW HERE—
"Not of myself—By some GREAT MAKER then,
"In goodness, and in power, pre-eminent.
"Tell me, how I may know Him, how adore,
"From whom I have, that thus, I live, and move,
"And feel, that I am happier than I know.”-
While thus I call'd, I stray'd, I knew not whither,
From where I first drew air, and first beheld
This happy light. When answer, none, return'd,
On a green shady bank, profuse of flowers,
Pensive I sat me down. There, gentle sleep,
First found me, and, with soft oppression, seiz'd
My drowsed sense, untroubled,-(though I thought,
I then was passing to my former state
Insensible, and forthwith to dissolve)-

When suddenly, stood at my head a dream,
Whose inward apparition, gently mov'd
My fancy, to believe, I yet had Being,

And liv'd. One, came, methought, of shape divine,
And said "Thy mansion, wants thee, Adam: rise,
"First man! Of men innumerable, ordain'd
"First father! Call'd by thee, I come, thy guide
"To the garden of bliss, thy seat prepar'd."