From the Italian.

And when their fading glories past,
All strewn around they met my eyes,
An anxious thought my mind o'ercast—
Thus youth departs and beauty dies.

45

FLOWERS.

No gradual bloom is wanting; from the bud
First-born of Spring, to Summer's musky tribes;
Nor hyacinths of purest virgin white
Low bent and blushing inward, nor jonquils
Of potent fragrance, nor narcissus fair,
As o'er the fabled fountain hanging still:
Nor broad carnations, nor gay-spotted pinks,
Nor shower'd from every bush the damask rose;
Infinite numbers, delicacies, scents.

With hues on hues, expression cannot paint
The breath of nature and her endless bloom.

THOMSON.

GOING OUT AND COMING IN.

IN that home was joy and sorrow,
Where an infant first drew breath,
While an aged sire was drawing
Near unto the gate of death.
His feeble pulse was failing,

And his eyes were growing dim;
He was standing on the threshold

When they brought the babe to him.

While to murmur forth a blessing
On the little one he tried,
In his trembling arms he raised it,
Pressed it to his lips, and died.
An awful darkness resteth

On the path they both begin,
Who thus met upon the threshold,
Going out and coming in.

Going out unto the triumph,
Coming in unto the fight-

Coming in unto the darkness,
Going out unto the light,

Going out and Coming in.

Though the shadow deepened

In the moment of eclipse,

When he passed through the dread portal,
With the blessing on his lips.

And to him who bravely conquers
As he conquered in the strife,
Life is but the way of dying-
Death is but the gate of life;
Yet awful darkness resteth

On the path we all begin,
Where we meet upon the threshold
Going out and coming in.

ISA CRAIG.

47

32

Ye who would serv
Despair

of finding heaven
Exemption from th

And unso

Thy heaven on eart
Passing a

Tenant at will of e
Joys unsubstantial,
Steward of these la
Commanded to imp

From Chambers' Journa

MAN COMPARED

LIKE leaves on trees

Now green in youth
Another race the fol
They fall successive,
So generations in the
So flourish these, wh

Flowers.

Althea with the purple eye; the broom,
Yellow and bright, as bullion unalloyed,
Her blossoms and luxuriant above all

The jessamine, throwing wide her elegant sweets,
The deep dark green of whose unvarnished leaf
Makes more conspicuous, and illumines more
The bright profusion of her scattered stars-
These have been, and thèse shall be in their day,
And all this uniform uncoloured scene

Shall be dismantled of its fleecy load,
And flush into variety again.

49

COWPER.