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Thy darling form shall seem to hover nigh,
And hush the groan of life's last agony !

Farewel! when strangers lift thy father's bier,
And place my nameless stone without a tear ;
When each returning pledge hath told my child
That Conrad's tomb is on the desert pil'd;
And when the dream of troubled fancy sees
Its lonely rank-grass waving in the breeze;
Who then will sooth thy grief, when mine is o'er?
Who will protect thee, helpless Ellenore?
Shall secret scenes thy filial sorrows hide,
Scorn'd by the world, to factious guilt allied?
Ah! no; methinks the generous and the good
Will woo thee from the shades of solitude!
O'er friendless grief compassion shall awake,
And smile on Innocence, for Mercy's sake!

Inspiring thought of rapture yet to be, The tears of love were hopeless, but for thee! If in that frame no deathless spirit dwell, If that faint murmur be the last farewel! If fate unite the faithful but to part, Why is their memory sacred to the heart? Why does the brother of my childhood seem Restor❜d awhile in every pleasing dream? Why do I joy the lonely spot to view, By artless friendship bless'd when life was new? Eternal Hope! when yonder spheres sublime Peal'd their first notes to sound the march of Time, Thy joyous youth began-but not to fadeWhen all the sister planets have decay'd; When rapt in fire the realms of ether glow, And Heaven's last thunder shakes the world below; Thou, undismay'd, shalt o'er the ruins smile, And light thy torch at Nature's funeral pile!


The street was a Ruin, and night's horrid glare
Illumin'd with terror the face of despair,

While houseless, bewailing,
Mute pity assailing,

A mother's wild shrieks pierced the merciless air; Beside her stood Edward, imploring each wind

To wake his lov'd sister, who linger'd behind.
Awake, my poor Mary,
Oh! fly to me, Mary,

In the arms of your Edward, a pillow you'll find.

In vain he call'd, for now the volum❜d smoke,
Crackling between the parting rafters, broke;
Thro' the rent seams the forked flames aspire,
All, all is lost, the roof's on fire, the roof's on fire.
A flash from the window brought Mary to view,
She scream'd as around her the flames fiercely blew,
Where art thou, Mother!
Oh! fly to me, Brother!

Ah! save your poor Mary, who lives but for you:
Leave not poor Mary!
Ah! save your poor Mary!

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EARLY LIFE.-Mrs. Rose.

When Young in life, nor known to sorrow,
How lightly flew the gladsome day!
Gay dreams of bliss brought on the morrow
And gilt the sun's declining ray.

Then sweet and tranquil were my slumbers;
Then never 'waked mine eyes to weep;
No sorrow that the heart encumbers
Poison'd the calm of downy sleep.

No treach❜rous friendship then had found me ;
Nor Death's dread power had rent my heart;

Hope spread her fair illusions round me
And play'd the dear deceiver's part.

She pictured years of tranquil pleasure,
Peace and content she held to view;
My trusting heart dwelt o'er its treasure
And thought the lovely vision true.

Ah scenes of joy! by fancy given
To cheat the enraptured, gazing eye,
Say why, alas! ye promise Heaven
And give-but Disappointment's sigh?

Dear days of bliss! ye wake my sorrow,
Now slowly moves the tedious day,
While sombre shades o'ercloud the morrow
And shroud the sun's declining ray.

LEDYARD'S Eulogium on Woman.

I have always observed, that women, in all countries, are civil, obliging, tender and humane; that they are inclined to be gay and cheerful, timorous and modest, and that they do not, like man, hesitate to perform a generous action. Not haughty, arrogant, or supercilious, they are full of eourtesy and fond of society-more liable in general to err than man, but in general also-more virtuous, and performing more good actions than he. To a woman, whether civilized or savage, I never addressed myself in the language of decency and friendship, without receiving a decent and friendly answer- -With man, it has been often otherwise. In wandering through the barren plains of inhospitable Denmark; through honest Sweden and frozen Lapland, rude and churlish Finland, unprinci pled Russia, and the wide spread regions of the wandering Tartar ; if hungry, dry, cold, wet or sick, the women have ever been friendly to me, and uniformly so; and to add to this virtue, (so worthy to be called benevolence) their actions have been performed in so free and kind a manner, that if I was dry, I drank the sweetest draught, and if hungry, eat the coarsest morsel, with a double relish.

Extract from a Baccalauriate Address by Dr. Nort.

But what can a youthful adventurer, a mere individual, hope to accomplish for the benefit of virtue or the world? What? Almost any thing he wills to undertake and dares to persevere in. This world is made up of individuals. All the fame that has been acquired; all the infamy that has been merited; all the plans of happiness or misery that have been formed; all the enterprizes of loyalty or of treason that have been executed, have owed their existence to the wisdom or folly, to the courage or temerity of individuals.

Mere youthful adventurers as you are, and though only individuals, each of you possess a capacity for doing either good or evil, which human foresight cannot measure, nor human power limit. Your immediate exertions may benefit or injure some —your example may reach others those whom your example reaches may communicate their feelings to individuals more remote, by whom those feelings may be again communicated to those who will re-communicate them-all of whom may transmit the influence which commenced with you to a succeeding generation; which in its turn may again transmit it to the next, to be again transmitted. Thus the impulse given, either to virtue or to vice, by a single individual, may be immeasurably extended, even to distant nations, and communicated through succeeding ages to the remotest generations.

Voltaire, Rousseau, and their infidel coadjutors, collected their materials, and laid a train which produced that fatal explosion, which shook the civilized world to its centre. Governments were dismembered; monarchies were overthrown; institutions were swept away; society was flung into confusion; human life was endangered..... Years have elapsed-the face of Europe is yet covered with wrecks and desolations! and how long before the world will recover from the disastrous shock their conspiracy occasioned, God only knows-and yet Voltaire, Rousseau and their infidel coadjutors were individuals.

Did not Cyrus sway the opinions, awe the fears, and direct the energies of the world at Babylon? Did not Cæsar do this at Rome, and Constantine at Byzantium? And yet Cyrus, Cæsar and Constantine, were individuals-but they were fortunate; they lived at critical conjunctures, and in fields of blood gathered immortality. And is it at critical conjunctures and in fields of blood only, that immortality can be gathered?

Where then is HOWARD, that saint of illustrious memory, who' traversed his native country, exploring the jail and the prison

ship, and taking the dimensions of that misery, which these caverns of vice, of disease and of death, had so long concealed -whose heroic deeds of charity, the dungeons alike of Europe and of Asia witnessed, and whose bones now consecrate the confines of distant Tartary, where he fell a martyr to his zeal, when, like an angel of peace, he was engaged in conveying through the cold, damp, pestilential cells of Russian Crimea, the lamp of hope and the cup of consolation to the incarcerated slave, who languished unknown, unpitied, and forgotten there.

WASHINGTON.-From Fontanes' Eloge Funebre.

Of Washington what shall be said? Panegyric cannot be exhausted on his name. The sovereignty of his country was asserted by his energy, and secured by his moderation. His military successes were more solid than brilliant, brilliant as they were; and judgment, rather than enthusiasm, regulated his conduct in battle. In the midst of the inevitable disorders of camps, and the excesses inseparable from a civil war, humanity always found refuge in his tent. In the morning of triumph, and in the darkness of adversity, he was alike serene; at all times tranquil as wisdom, and simple as virtue. After the acknowledgment of American Independence, when the unanimous suffrage of a free people called him to administer their government, his administration, partaking of his character, was mild and firm at home, noble and prudent abroad.Born to opulence, he had nobly increassd his patrimony, like the early heroes of Rome, by the labours of agriculture: and though an enemy to vain parade, he wished to environ the manners of republicanism with a becoming dignity. His well regulated mind repulsed every species of extravagance. No one of his fellow-citizens loved liberty more ardently; but no one heard, with a stronger repugnance, the exaggerations of dema gogues. In all his negotiations the heroic simplicity of the American president dealt, without vain glory or abasement, with the majesty of kings. His were not the fierce and imposing features which strike all minds; but order and justice, truth, and above all, good sense, were his characteristics : good sense, a quality as rare as it is useful, and as useful in public stations as in private life. Genius elevates, boldness destroys; good sense preserves and perfects. Genius is charged with the glory of empires; but good sense alone can assure their repose and duration. When Washington saw his country raised, in great measure by his personal influence, from dis

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