on a plain funeral-stone, without ornament, and below envy. There shall my tomb stand among the rest as a fresh monument of the frailty of nature and the end of time. It is possible some friendly foot may now and then visit the place of my repose, and some tender eye may bedew the cold memorial with a tear: one or other of my old acquaintance may possibly attend there to learn the silent lecture of mortality from my gravestone, which my lips are now preaching aloud to the world and should love and sorrow reach so far, perhaps, while his soul is melting in his eyelids, and his voice scarce finds an utterance, he will point with his finger, and shew his companions the month and the day of my decease. O that solemn, that awful day, which shall finish my appointed time on earth, and put a full period to all the designs of my heart, and all the labours of my tongue and pen! Think, O my soul, that while friends and strangers are engaged on that spot, and reading the date of thy departure hence, thou wilt be fixed under a decisive and unchangeable sentence, rejoicing in the rewards of time well improved, or suffering the long sorrows which shall attend the abuse of it, in an unknown world of happiness or misery. WHICH THINGS ARE AS A SHADOW. ANON. I SAW a stream, whose waves were bright But gathering clouds, ere fall of night, My spirit sighed, "This life to me hath been!" The clouds dispersed,-the glorious west The soothing thought— Thus life might pass away. I saw a tree, with ripening fruit, Recall to me The doom my hopes had found. A fire consumed it: but I saw, A shadowy type, beheld with awe, But, from the grave, Shall rise to crave, A home above the sky. PASSING AWAY. MRS. HEMANS. "Passing away" is written on the world and all the world contains. It is written on the rose, "Passing away." It is written on the skies Of the soft blue summer's day: It is traced in sunset's dyes, "Passing away." It is written on the trees, As their young leaves glistening play, And on lighter things than these, "Passing away." It is written on the brow, Where the spirit's ardent ray Lives, burns, and triumphs now— "Passing away." It is written on the heart, Alas! that there decay Should claim from love a part, Friends! friends! O! shall we meet O! if this may be so, Speed, speed, thou closing day! How blest from earth's vain show pass away!" 66 "To SUCH THINGS WERE. ΑΝΟΝ. TIME flies when it should linger most, When friends are near and hearts are gay; And when his path is marked by care, say in sorrow, "Such things were." In happy hours we often say, "In scenes like this we must be gay." But if we lose one valued friend, Our feelings change, our pleasures end: We mourn the looks so truly dear, The scene is changed, and, sorrowing there, In every path we seek alone, We sadly sigh for something gone; Where that lost friend has lately been; We miss a tone, a step, a glance, We think of joys we used to share, And say in sorrow-"Such things were." REFLECTIONS ON THE SPRING. ANON. THERE cannot be a more pleasing object of contemplation, than the change of the seasons, which produces a renovation of nature, and gives a new appearance to the world, by making the dreary and dismal scenes of winter give place to the exhilarating gaiety of spring; which affords, to a mind free from corroding care and boisterous passion, an unexhausted source of innocent enjoyments. The variety of pleasing prospects, and delightful scenes, formed by hills and dales, by fields and woods; the warbling of birds, whose cheerful notes display reviving joy; the satisfaction dis |