he;

"For an' if thou hast a wife,

done,

And left my wife in the porch.

day

That ever thou didst in thy life.

For she took a bottle to church.”

ROBERT SOUTHEY

rind.

A venom distilled of the deadliest kind:

The Dutch sent their felons its juices to draw, And who returned safe pleaded pardon by

law.

Face-muffled, the culprits crept into the vale, Advancing from windward to 'scape the death-gale.

How few the reward of their victory earned! For ninety-nine perished for one who returned.

Britannia this upas tree bought of Mynheer, Removed it through Holland and planted it here;

'Tis now a stock-plant of the genus wolf's

bane,

They cautious advance with slouched bonnet

and hat:

They enter at this door, they go out at that; Some bear off their burden with riotous glee, But most sink in sleep at the foot of the tree.

Tax, Chancellor Van, the Batavian to thwart, This compound of crime at a sovereign a quart;

Let gin fetch per bottle the price of cham

pagne,

And hew down the upas in Marybone Lane.

JAMES SMITH.

PERICLES AND ASPASIA. HIS was the ruler of the land

Lane.

The house that surrounds it stands first in

the row;

Two doors at right angles swing open below, And the children of misery daily steal in, And the poison they draw they denominate

Gin.

There enter the prude and the reprobate boy, The mother of grief and the daughter of joy, The serving-maid slim and the serving-man stout;

When Athens was the land of fame; This was the light that led the band.

When each was like a living flame;
The centre of earth's noblest ring,
Of more than men the more than king.

Yet not by fetter nor by spear

His sovereignty was held or won: Feared, but alone as freemen fear,

Loved, but as freemen love alone, He waved the sceptre o'er his kind By Nature's first great title, mind.

out.

Surcharged with the venom, some walk forth

erect,

Apparently baffling its deadly effect;

Then eloquence first flashed below; Full-armed to life the portent sprung,

Minerva from the Thunderer's brow, And his the sole, the sacred hand That shook her ægis o'er the land.

churls,

But she loved the gardener's son. They pledged their faith in life or death,

In happiness or woe,

And sealed the promise with a ring,

A thousand years ago.

The grim earl read his magic book,
And, lo before his sight
The deeds they did, the love they hid,
Were clear as morning light.

A thousand years ago—

THE VISIONARY PORTRAIT.

AS by his lonely hearth he sate,

As

The shadow of a welcome dream
Passed o'er his heart. Disconsolate

His home did seem;
Comfort in vain was spread around,
For something still was wanting found.

Therefore he thought of one who might

For ever in his presence stay,
Whose dream should be of him by night,
Whose smile should be for him by day;
And the sweet vision, vague and far,
Rose on his fancy like a star.
"Let her be young, yet not a child
Whose light and inexperienced mirth
Is all too winged and too wild
For sober earth;

Too rainbow-like such mirth appears,
And fades away in misty tears.

"Let youth's fresh rose still gently bloom Upon her smooth and downy cheek, Yet let a shadow-not of gloom,