Lake. River, hence we're done with strife,

Knowing each our duty.

River. And in loud or silent life,
Each may shine in beauty.

Both.

While we keep our places thus,
Adam's sons and daughters,
Ho! behold, and learn of us,
Still and running waters!

MEMORY.

WHAT is memory? 'Tis the light
Which hallows life a ray profound
Upon the brow of mental night-
An echo, time the passing sound
A mirror; its bright surface shows

Hope, fear, grief, love, delight, regretA generous spring—a beam which glows Long after sun and star have set

A leaf, nor storm nor blight can fade-
An ark in time's bereaving sea-
A perfume from a flower decayed-
A treasure for eternity!

BEAUTIFUL EXTRACT.

O, IF there is one law above the rest
Written in wisdom-if there is a word
That I would trace as with a pen of fire
Upon the unsullied temper of a child-
If there is any thing that keeps the mind
Open to angel visits, and repels
The ministry of ill-'tis human love!
God has made nothing worthy of contempt.
The smallest pebble in the well of truth
Has its peculiar meanings, and will stand
When man's best monuments wear fast away.
The law of Heaven is love, and though its name
Has been usurped by passion, and profaned
To its unholy uses through all time,
Still, the eternal principle is pure;
And in these deep affections that we feel
Omnipotent within us, we but see

The lavish measure in which love is given
And in the yearning tenderness of a child
For every bird that sings above its head,
And every creature feeding on the hills,
And every tree, and flower, and running brook,
We see how every thing was made to love,
And how they err, who, in a world like this,
Find any thing to hate but human pride.

LADIES OF LONG AGO.

TELL me, to what region flown
Is Flora, the fair Roman, gone?
Where lovely Thais' hiding-place,
Her sister in each charm and grace?
Echo, let thy voice awake,

Over river, stream, and lake:

Answer, where does beauty go? ·

Where is fled the south wind's snow?

Where is Eloise the wise,

For whose two bewitching eyes
Hapless Abelard was doomed

In his cell to live entombed?
Where the queen, her love who gave,
Cast in Seine, a watery grave?
Where each lovely cause of woe?
Where is fled the south wind's snow?

Where thy voice, O regal fair,

Sweet as is the lark's in air?
Where is Bertha? Alix? she

Who Le Mayne held gallantly?
Where is Joan, whom English flame
Gave, at Rouen, death and fame ?

Where are all ?

does any know?

Where is fled the south wind's snow?

THE TRUEST FRIEND.

THERE is a friend, a secret friend,
In every trial, every grief,
To cheer, to counsel, and defend,-
Of all we ever had the chief!.
A friend, who, watching from above,
Whene'er in error's path we trod,
Still sought us with reproving love :
That friend, that secret friend, is GOD!

There is a friend, a faithful friend,

In every chance and change of fate,
Whose boundless love doth solace send,
When other friendships come too late
A friend, that when the world deceives,

And wearily we onward plod,
Still comforts every heart that grieves :

་

That true, that faithful friend is GOD.

How blest the years of life might flow,
In one unchanged, unshaken trust,
If man this truth would only know,
And love his Maker, and be just!
Yes, there's a friend, a constant friend,
Who ne'er forsakes the lowliest sod,
But, in each need, His hand doth lend:

That friend, that truest friend, is GOD.

A LOVELY BRIDE.

I was spending an hour, not long since, in turning the pages of a pleasant miscellany, in the course of which my eye fell upon the following rare, but beautiful and touching incident, in the history of one who that day was to become a bride.

A party of lively and interested cousins and friends had early assembled at the bridal mansion for the purpose of decorating the drawing-room, where the marriage ceremony was to be performed. At length this pleasant duty being accomplished, they retired, happy in contributing to the joy of an occasion which, while it would take from them one whom they loved, would unite that one to the object of her highest regard. The room was beautifully decorated with rich and variegated bouquets, and on a centre-table lay the gayly-adorned bride's loaf, an object of great importance.

I said all had retired from the lovely spot; but there was one of the cousins, who, a short time after, stole gently back, to look once more at the varied beauty of the scene, and to indulge by herself the hopes and anticipations of an affectionate heart for the future happiness of her friend. She gently opened the door, and was about entering,