I have fastened it under thy pinion,
With a blue ribbon round thy soft neck;
So go from me, beautiful minion,

While the blue ether shows not a speck:
Like a cloud in dim distance fleeting,
Like an arrow he hurries away;
And farther, and farther retreating,
He is lost in the clear blue of day.

SPARKLING AND BRIGHT.

BY C. F. HOFFMAN.

SPARKLING and bright in liquid light
Does the wine our goblets gleam in,

With hue as red as the rosy bed

Which a bee would wish to dream in.
Then fill to-night with hearts as light,
To loves as gay and fleeting

As bubbles that swim on the beaker's brim,
And break on the lips while meeting.

Oh! if Mirth might arrest the flight

Of Time, through Life's dominions,

We here awhile would now beguile
The Graybeard of his pinions

To drink to-night with hearts as light,
To loves as gay and fleeting

As bubbles that swim on the beaker's brim,
And break on the lips while meeting.

But since delight can't tempt the wight,
Nor fond regret delay him,

Nor Love himself can hold the elf,

Nor sober Friendship stay him,

We'll drink to-night with hearts as light,
To loves as gay and fleeting

As bubbles that swim on the beaker's brim,
And break on the lips while meeting.

THE LAST SONG.

BY JAMES G. BROOKS.

STRIKE the wild harp yet once again!
Again its lonely numbers pour;
Then let the melancholy strain

Be hushed in death for evermore.
For evermore, for evermore,
Creative fancy, be thou still;
And let oblivious Lethe pour
Upon my lyre its waters chill.

Strike the wild harp yet once again!

Then be its fitful chords unstrung,

Silent as is the grave's domain,

And mute as the death-mouldered tongue.

Yea, there shalt thou rest thee
For ever and aye,

With none to molest thee,-
Then drink and away.

THE WIFE'S SONG.

BY WILLIAM LEGGETT.

As the tears of the even,
Illumined at day

By the sweet light of heaven,

Seem gems on each spray; So gladness to-morrow

Shall shine on thy brow, The more bright for the sorrow That darkens now.

Yet if fortune, believe me,

Have evil in store,

Though each other deceive thee,

I'll love thee the more.

As ivy leaves cluster

More greenly and fair, When winter winds bluster

Round trees that are bare.

I KNOW THAT THOU ART FAR AWAY.

BY JAMES NACK.

I KNOW that thou art far away,
Yet in my own despite

My still expectant glances stray

Inquiring for thy sight.

Though all too sure that thy sweet face

Can bless no glance of mine,

At every turn, in every place,
My eyes are seeking thine.

I hope-how vain the hope, I know-
That some propitious chance
May bring thee here again to throw
Thy sweetness on my glance.
But, loveliest one, where'er thou art,
Whate'er be my despair,

Mine eyes will seek thee, and my heart

Will love thee every where.

A HEALTH.

BY MISS ELIZABETH C. CLINCH.

FILL high the cup!-the young and gay
Are met with bounding hearts to-night;
And sunny smiles around us play,
And eyes are sparkling bright:
Let wit and song the hours beguile,
But yet, amid this festal cheer,
Oh, let us pause to think awhile
Of him who is not here.

Fill high the cup!-yet ere its brim

One young and smiling lip has pressed,
Oh, pledge each sparkling drop to him
Now far o'er ocean's breast!

The cordial wish each lip repeats,
By every heart is echoed here;
For none within this circle beats,
To whom he is not dear.

A sudden pause in festive glee

What thought hath hushed the thought of mirth, Hath checked each heart's hilarity,

And given to sadness birth?

O! read it in the shades that steal
Across each animated brow;
The wish none utters, yet all feel,

"Would he were with us now!"