But grief unchecked, or long indulged, is

wrong;

The mental energies it then subdues ;
False sensibility usurps the place

Of real generous feeling. But how large
A portion of life's best endearments seems
Buried with her we mourn! How deep a
shade

Hangs o'er our joys. Time haply yet may

cast

A softening hue o'er all our present gloom; Yet shall the recollection warm, and true, Which the heart cherishes, still unimpaired, Unchanged remain, through many coming

years.

Memory, with fond delight, will oft recal Th' improving converse, which to happy hours

Gave magic swiftness, and the endearing

proofs

Of kindness and regard I amply shared,

And, O how highly highly prized! Then welcomed still,

With chastened joy, be this remembered day!

And while to closer communing with heaven,

To deeper meditation on its law

And righteous will, the peaceful sabbath

leads,

Let me, with saddened yet submissive

mind,

Now hail her birth celestial; whose whole life

Was spent in preparation for its close.

Oft as returns the hallowed morning, when From human frailty freed, her sainted soul, Meekly its Saviour trusting, burst its cell, And from its mortal prison soar'd in hope, With immortality replete, to join

The spirits of the just, be this my prayer— That God in mercy will vouchsafe his peace,

Surpassing thought, to soothe the hearts

that mourn.

Hear me, Almighty Father! whilst for those I supplieate, who smart beneath thy hand. Still by that staff supported, and through

faith

Resign'd beneath thy rod, may they derive From every dispensation of thy grace Those benefits thy kindness has designed. Grant too the excellence I loved, I may, Though at a distance, copy!-By thy strength

taught,

Sustain'd, and by Heavenly guidance
[comes,
So let me live; and when my summons
Grant me, with like serenity and hope,
All sublunary pleasures to resign.

In thy eternal kingdom-through thy [given

grace

Each error cancelled, and each sin for

May I behold my much-loved friends again,

And dwell in heavenly bliss with those whom here

On earth I honoured, loved, revered and

wept.

TO MY NIECE, P. M. H.

BY R. HOWITT.

E. B.

MATILDA, thou art pleasant
As May that cometh out

With wandering breeze and humming bees,
And with the cuckoo's shout.

Sweet as the violet springing,
That takes of flowers the lead;
And primrose of the woodland,
And cowslip of the mead.

Sweet as the wilding blossom,
The mingling red and white,

Thou sendest thoughts into the heart
All born of thy delight.

There is within thine eyes

So much of heaven above thee, And so much deep within thy breast We cannot choose, but love thee.

And thinking of thy mother,
Whom now we may not see,
We wish her gentle nature
May live anew in thee.

AUSTRALIAN PROSPECTS.

BY THE REV. J. ADENEY.

WEEP not, Australia! yet thy skies forlorn Shall catch the splendours of Salvation's

morn

Yet shall He come-upborne on cherub[ing-star! Who grasps with signet-hand the morn

car,