watching beside the bed ; she called to me to kiss her, and as I did so, she sighed, and her soul winged its way to heaven from her lips.—The next morning, I sent for a priest, and according to the custom she was buried in the hovel. I stood beside the grave destined to receive the only good I ever possessed on earth, and I helped to close it without shedding a single tear. Before a week had elapsed, my child found a resting place on the bosom of its angel mother, and I was again alone.
Suspicion arose of my being guilty of the murder. I was apprehended, accused, and threatened with the rack unless I confessed. A strange mode that of testing the truth by the strength of a man's nerves and joints. But the threat was useless; I confessed my guilt, for they cannot be more desirous of taking my life than I am to part with it. I am now in prison to answer for the offence. In making this confession and reviewing my past life, I have been led to analyze my feelings until I believe I thoroughly understand my heart, and judging from that, I have irresistibly arrived at the conclusion, that the decrees of heaven and the laws of man, have rendered many wretched and guilty whose minds were framed to enjoy, to the fullest extent, the various works of nature, and who would otherwise have passed as harmless as the new born infant to the grave.
RETROSPECTION.
BY ROSALIE.
They ask me why my looks are sad
When all around are gay;
They tell me that I once could smile,
And sport throughout the day.
'Tis true, but then each scene was fair
Beneath youth's sunny sky;
I gaily sipp'd life's choicest sweets
Ere I had learn'd to sigh.
At early dawn all nature's deck'd
In gems of sparkling dew;
So inthe morning of our days
All's seen in brightest hue.
But soon these visions are dispell'd,
When reason's sun's on high;
We then look back on pleasures past,
Then first we learn to sigh.
And now when I would smile again,
Or trifle as before,
Reflection brings each form to view
Of friends who are no more.
Again I watch their parting breath
And see the closing eye,
Oh! ask not why my looks are sad ,
Nor wonder if I sigh.
They tell me that I still have friends,
Whose love is warm and true,
And that by mourning o'er the past,
We slight the good in view?
It is not that I value less
The blessings which are nigh,
"Tis not, I trust, an ingrate's heart
That breathes so oft a sigh.
But when the calm of sweet content
Comes o'er the troubled mind,
When ev'ry murmuring thought is hush'd,
And we are all resigned,
Then fears of future ills arise
To cloud the azure sky,
To check the half formed timid smile,
And change it to a sigh.
LIFE'S VISIONS.
The world has many wiles,
Go, taste her pleasures, go
Many have gone in rosy smiles
Who soon returned in woe—
There's treachery—there's treachery—
In pleasure's bowl that sparkles bright,
As sun-rays in the evening sky
O'er storm clouds throw a golden light.
CURIOSITY.
BY SPRAGUE.
In the pleased infant see its powerexpand,
When first the coral fills his little hand;
Throned in his mother's lap, it dries each tear,
As her sweet legend falls upon his ear;
Next it assails him in his top's strange hum,
Breathes in his whistle, echoes in his drum ;
Each gilded toy, that doting love bestows,
He longs to break and every spring expose.
Placed by your hearth, with what delight he pores
O'erthe bright pages of his pictured stores ;
How oft he steals upon your graver task,
Of this to tell you, and of that to ask ;
And when the warning hour to bed-ward bids,
Though gentle sleep sits waiting on his lids,
How willingly he pleads to gain you o'er,
That he may read one little story more.
I HAE NAEBODY NOW.
BY THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD.
I hae naebody now—I hae naebody now
To meet me upon the green,
Wi' light locks waving o'er her brow,
An' joy in her deep blue een;
Wi' the soft sweet kiss an' the happy smile,
An' the dance o' the lightsome fay,
An' the wee bit tale o' news the while
That had happened when I was away.
I hae naebody now-I hae naebody now
To clasp to my bosom at even;
O'er her calm sleep to breathe the vow,
An' pray for a blessing from heaven;
An' the wild embrace an' the gleesome face,
In the morning that met mine eye:
Where are they now ? Where are they now?
In the cauld, cauld grave they lie.
There's naebody kens-there's naebody kens,
An' O may they never prove
That sharpest degree of agony
For the child of their earthly love!
To see a flower in its vernal hour
By slow degrees decay;
Then softly aneath, in the arms o' death
Breathe its sweet soul away.
O, dinna break my poor auld heart,
Nor at thy loss repine;
For the unseen hand that threw the dart
Was sent from her father and thine,
Yes Imaun mourn, an' I will mourn,
Even till my latest day;
For though my darling can never return,
I shall follow her soon away.
