STARLIGHT RECOLLECTIONS.

'Twas night. In the woodland alone
We met with no witnesses by,
But such as resplendently shone
In the blue-tinted vault of the sky
Your head on my bosom was laid,

As you said you would ever be mine; And I promised to love, dearest maid, And worship alone at your shrine.

Your love on my heart gently fell
As the dew on the flowers at eve,

Whose bosoms with gratitude swell,
A blessing to give and receive:

And I knew by the glow on your cheek,

No

And the rapture you could not control,

power had language to speak

The faith or content of your soul.

I love you as none ever loved,

As the steel to the star I am true; And I, dearest maiden, have proved That none ever loved me but you. Till memory loses her power,

Or the sands of my being have run, I'll remember the star-lighted hour, That mingled two hearts into one.

E

RHYME AND REASON.

AN APOLOGUE.

Two children, in the olden time,

In Flora's primrose season,

Were born. The name of one was Rhyme,

That of the other Reason.

And both were beautiful and fair,

And

pure as mountain stream and air.

As the boys together grew,
Happy fled their hours-

Grief or care they never knew
In the Paphian bowers.

See them roaming, hand in hand,

The pride of all the choral band.

Musick with harp of golden strings,
Love with bow and quiver,

Airy sprites on radiant wings,
Nymphs of wood and river,

Joined the muses' thrilling song,

As Rhyme and Reason pass'd along.

But the scene was changed-the boys

Left their native soil

Rhyme's pursuit was idle joys,
Reason's manly toil:

Soon Rhyme was starving in a ditch,
While Reason grew exceeding rich.

Since that dark and fatal hour,

When the brothers parted,

Reason has had wealth and

power

Rhyme's poor and broken-hearted!

And now, or bright or stormy weather,

They twain are seldom seen together.

WEARIES MY LOVE OF MY LETTERS?

WEARIES my love of
love of my letters ?

Does she my silence command?

Sunders she Love's rosy fetters

As though they were woven of sand?
Tires she too of each token

Indited with many a sigh?

Are all her promises broken?
And must I love on till I die?

Thinks my dear love that I blame her
With what was a burden to part?
Ah, no!—with affection I'll name her
While lingers a pulse in my heart.
Although she has clouded with sadness,
And blighted the bloom of my years,

I love her still, even to madness,

And bless her through showers of tears!