To the Herb Rosemary.

SWEET-SENTED flower! who art wont to bloom On January's front severe,

And o'er the wintry desert drear

To waft thy waste perfume!

Come, thou shalt form thy nosegay now,
And I will twine thee round my brow;

And as I twine the mournful wreath,

I'll weave a melancholy song.

And sweet the strain shall be and long
The melody of death.

Come funeral flower! who lovest to dwell
With the pale corse in the lonely tomb,
And throw across the desert gloom

A sweet decaying smell.

Come press my lips and lie with me
Beneath the lonely alder tree,

And we shall sleep a pleasant sleep,
And not a care shall dare intrude

To break the marble solitude

So peaceful and so deep.

And hark! the wind-god, as he flies,
Moans hollow in the forest trees,
And sailing on the gusty breeze,
Mysterious music dies.

Sweet flower; that requium wild is mine,

It warns me to the lonely shrine,

The cold turf-altar of the dead;

My grave shall be in yon lone spot,

Where as I lie, by all forgot,

A dying fragrance thou wilt o'er my ashes shed.

H. K. WHITE.

The Plain Speaker.

MOST near in faith and affinity to the Busy-body, is the Plain Speaker — a being of coarse feelings, rude utterance, and boastful integrity. Could the scorn of a sarcasm kill, these would have slain their thousands. The music of such is usually upon a sharp note, and has no symphony. In their vocabulary presumption means sincerity; impertinence is honesty; careless, cutting allusions, right and righteousness. And yet the dark den of such hearts more usually incloses the tiger than the serpent-brood. MRS. NORTON.

Instantaneous Impressions.

Он there are looks and tones that dart
An instant sunshine through the heart;
As if the soul that instant caught
Some treasure it though life had sought,
As if the very lips and eyes
Predestined to have all our sighs,
And never be forgot again

Sparkled and spoke before us then.

MOORE.

Dreams.

EVIL is in love,

And ever those who are unhappiest have

Their hearts' desire the oftenest, but in dreams. Dreams are mind-clouds, high and unshapen beauties,

Or but, God-shaped, like mountains which contain Much and rich matter; often not for us,

But for another. Dreams are rudiments

Of the great state to come. We dream what is
About to happen to us.

BAILEY.

Dissimulation.

TIMID natures are ever in danger of being driven into dissimulation, when too severely taxed about their actions, or visited for their errors. MISS PORTER.

Lost Love.

Is there any anguish like that of losing love by a fault? any pain like that slow bitterness which comes upon the heart when the certainty of its actual loss becomes fully perceptible to it? Reason said it must be so, imagination anticipated it, fear shrank from it, but love itself stood tremulous and unbelieving, till that certainty fell upon it and crushed it; and then it lay still beneath the weight, stunned and motionless, but yet alive, and living forever, though living only to suffer.

THE MAIDEN AUNT.

Charity.

THEN gently scan your brither man,

Still gentler sister woman;

Tho' they may gang a kenning wrang;
To step aside is human :

One point must still be greatly dark
The moving why they do it ;
And just as lamely can ye mark

How far perhaps they rue it.

BURNS.

A HUMAN bosom - great, full of love as the heavens, true, gentle and pure- -O! there is a world in which to live! perfect, beautiful and eternal. There is the fire of passion, purified but not quenched, the unquiet is made quiet; the strength is exalted and confirmed. MISS BREMER.