ON FRIENDSHIP.

There is a magic in the spell

That flows from lips we love so well:
We linger o'er the sounds so dear,
They fall with softness on the ear.
The heart responds with liveliest glee
To music of their melody.

Our finest, fondest, feelings tend
To dignify the name of Friend.

No selfish passion enters where,
The heart is freely bound to share
The joy and woe, the good and ill,
The sorrows that beset us still ;
Sincere in thought, in action kind,
Faithful and fond, and firm of mind—

United, these a lustre lend

Which circles round the name of Friend.

Distrustful feelings are not known

Where friendship gives the mind its tone-
Lib'ral and free, confiding all,

No bond to fetter or enthral :

Pure as the gem from mountain riven,
Bright as the sunbeam from our heaven,
Are thoughts and motives which extend
Their influence o'er a faithful Friend.

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SILENCE IN HEAVEN.

How dear, yet fleeting, are those ties,
Uncertain all beneath the skies;
'Tis wisdom then to seek a stay
When all on earth has passed away,
T'enjoy the blessings kindly given,
As flowrets on our path to Heaven;
And grateful will our praise ascend
To Him, our Father, and our Friend.

M.

SILENCE IN HEAVEN.

["And when he had opened the seventh seal, there was silence in

Heaven about the space of half an hour!"-Rev. viii. 1.]

Silence in Heaven! where angel throngs

Their hallelujahs raise;

And ransom'd Saints in grateful songs
Pour forth their joy and praise.

Silence-where stars, as on they roll'd,

Made song their glad employ,
And Sons of God in days of old
Were wont to shout for joy.

SILENCE IN HEAVEN.

Silence in Heaven! where harp and voice,

In anthems of applause,

Might EVERLASTINGLY rejoice,

And need no silent pause.

Yet even there-a pause was known!
When utterance seem'd to fail;

And silence with its breathless tone,

May not the fact a lesson teach

To us on earth below?

That, more than music, song, or speech,
Silence HIS praise may show !

Oh! if thou THUS hast learnt His Will,
Mayst thou its blessings share;

And find in silent worship, still,

Thanksgiving, praise, and prayer!

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B. BARTON.

Let usefulness and beneficence, not ostentation and vanity,

direct the train of thy pursuits.

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THE DYING GIRL AND FLOWERS.

THE DYING GIRL AND FLOWERS.

["I desire, as I look on these, the ornaments and children of earth, to know whether, indeed, such things I shall see no more? Whether they have no likeness, no archetype in the world in which my future home is to be cast? Or whether they have their images above, only wrought in a more wondrous and delightful mould."---Conversations with a student in ill health.]

Bear them not from grassy dells,
Where wild bees have honey cells!
Not from where sweet water-sounds
Thrill the greenwood to its bounds;
Not to waste their scented breath
On the silent room of death!

Kindred to the breeze they are,
And the glow-worm's emerald star,
And the bird whose song is free,
And the many whispering tree:
Oh! too deep a love, and vain
They would win to earth again.

Spread them not before the eyes,
Closing fast on summer skies!
Woo thou not the spirit back
From its lone and viewless track,

With the bright things which have birth

Wide o'er all the coloured earth!

THE DYING GIRL AND FLOWERS.

With the violet's breath would rise,
Thoughts too sad for her who dies
From the lily's pearl cup shed,

Dreams too sweet would haunt her bed;
Dreams of youth-of spring time eves--
Music-beauty--all she leaves !

Hush! 'tis thou that dreaming art,

Calmer is her gentle heart.

Yes! o'er fountain, vale, and grove,
Leaf and flower, hath gushed her love;
But that passion, deep and true,
Knows not of a last adieu.

Types of lovelier forms than these,
In their fragile mould she sees;
Shadows of yet richer things,
Born beside immortal springs,
Into fuller glory wrought,
Kindled by surpassing thought!

Therefore, in the lily's leaf

She can read no word of grief;
O'er the woodbine she can dwell,
Murmuring not-Farewell!--Farewell!
And her dim, yet speaking eye,
Greets the violet solemnly.

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