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If any joys be mine through life,
Oh, let them strow thy way I
I lire but in thy ray;
Life's sunbeams fade and part;
TIS midnight in my heart,
My sister lore
My very soul is wrapt in thine,
Our hopes together bud and bloom—
Still near thee let me struggle on,
And e'er thy lamp of life be quenehed,
Sweet sister mine1
A WINTER DAY'S MUSINGS.
Drear, dense, and gray, Those massive elouds whieh now o'erspread the sky; Bleak are the winds that rush so rudely by—
Sad is their lay!
Hushed is the song
The woods among.
So soon that fled 1
Hopes high and glad Have faded, too, with all that *s fair and bright; And hearts that summer hours found gay and light
Are drear and sad.
Spring will restore
Of joy onee more.
But to the heart That's blighted in its youth, oh 1 what ean bring Its freshness haek? This desolated thing
Can never part
With all Its woe;
The sunset's glow—
The starry skies—
When daylight diee—
Eaeh glorious thing That onee was loved in days forever past, Will eause but vain regrets—fresh anguish oast— Now sorrows bring
No radiant beam Of summer sun ean e'er reeall the glow Whieh the seared heart hath lost; dark is the flow
Of its ehilled stream.
No joyous, gay,
Can ehase away
The low, sad tone Whieh lingers o'er the heart-strings like the sound That with the sea-shell or the wind-harp's found—
A plaintive moan 1
But yet the heart,
With eunning art,
Will teaeh the eye,
And sorrow high I
And thus—though light,
A wreek, a blight!
THE FOREST STREAM.
BY J. T.. BARRICK.
In a low and eeaseless murmur,
Gently flows the forest stream— Day and night to nature ehanting
Musie sweet as song and dream— In the mirrored sky revealing All the beauty of its gleam.
With a song of joy and gladness, . Merrily the minstrel pings. And eaeh passing breeze and zephyr
Wafts its earol on its wings, Till the air sround, above it,
Swells with magie murmurings.
Bubbling upward like a fountain,
Like a transient gleam of beauty,
Hymning anthems unto nature,
Hastening onward, onward ever,
As a wave upon the river
Hastening to the distant sea—
As a hope the hidden future
Summer storms may o'er it gather;
Winds of autumn round it wail; Winter, too, its bosom ruffle
With his iey sleet and hail; But with summer, autumn, winter,
Doth its steady flow prevail.
Thus life's fountain to the rivei
And the river to the oeean
Till the fountain, river, oeean,
THE FLOWERS OF SPRING.
ST HORACE W. SMITH.
We have seen them by the forest shade,
And by the sunlit streams; In ehildhood's walks, in manhood's years,
They are mingled in our dreams:
To some forgotten thing,
Among tho flowers of spring.
But ah I they win us haek in vain;
No after spring renows
Our souls so early lose:
The blrds may gayly sing,
Among the flowers of spring.
Yet fair and fragrant to the day
Eaeh bright-eyed flow'ret opes;
Nor blighted like our hopes;
Its long-lost light will bring—
Among the flowers of spring. Huntingdon, Mareh, 1S52.
THINK OF ME.
Whe* pleasure's eup is sparkling high,
When friends around thee throng; When hearts are light with playful mirth,
And lighter wakes the song;
Reealled by memory,
Oh! give one thought to me.
At dnwn, when first Aurora's light
And gilds tho dow-washed lily's head
When first tho lark shall plume his wing,
To warble forth his merry notes—
An* when the shades of evening are
Fast fading into night—
And quiet is delight;
When on thy bended kneo,
Oh then, tlum think of me!
If I eould elaim the riehest gem
That now lies in the sea,
Have one kind thought from thee:
Wwe now spread out to me,
T'd ask <>n<t thought from thee.
I THINK ON THEE.
I TmxK on thee when early mom is breaking,
Thou art my first sweet thought upon awaking
I think on thee whene'er the bright sun bringeth
Then, liko a hird, to thee my spirit wingeth—
I think on thee when twilight dows are stealing,
Then, then my shadowy thoughts thy form revealing—
I think on theo when silent midnight seemeth
Till, worn with thought, my busy faney dreameth
I think on thee, for ever, ever praying
My truant thoughts are over to theo straying—
THE OLD CHURCHYARD.
I've won theo, won thee, gentle bride;
I 'vo loved thee long, hope of my And now I plaee thee at my sido,
My dearer self, my darling wife. Most beautiful to me thou art,
And to all others passing fair; Then press thee elosely to my heart,
Dearest of all things treasured there.
Romomber, love, whore first we met;
The ehurehyard with bright flowers o'erspread; The ehureh itself in emerald set,
A wateher o'er its buried dead. The firs around, the grass beneath,
Shed faint perfume, a heavenly halm; I almost feared to draw my breath
Lest I should break the soul-felt ealm.
And thou I oh thou, so lovely beamed,
A very pearl in purity,
And eould almost have worshipped theo I
We gazed upon together then— In silenee gazed; no holy ehimes
Called us to meet our fellow-men.
We entered—and thy sweet young faee
All glorious looked in ehastened joy; We knelt in thine aeeustomed plaee—
Thou didst alone my thoughts employ. Thou wert beside me, and I beard
Thy soft voiee murmuring elear and low, Responsive to the Holy Word,
Or in the ehant melodious flow.
And ever from that tranquil hour
Thine image, love, alone had power
We parted then—a fresh bud thou
And I a youth, with purposed Row,
I won thee there—and when at last
We, reaeh our lives' appointed bourn, And have Death's silent eonfines past,
Our dust shall there to dust return. And should I first the dark rale tread,
Thy faithful lore shall me enfold; Or I will pillow thy dear head
Where first we met—that ehurehyard old, Eva. beloved 1 why weepest thou 1
Yes, preeious one, 'twere hard to part; Rest on my bosom thy fair brow,
And press thee elosely to my heart.
THE BATTLE OP LIFE.
BT HAMCEL ». PATTERSON.
'i At hattle is waging! Why, warrior, away!
Why motionless thou, whilst the gathering throng,
But lately, thy heart was absorbed in the fight,
Their serried ranks move; but the noise of their tread
Can it be that, before half life's hattle is done,
Ere the eontest is past and tho vietory won,
Thy spirit has shrunk from the strife raging there,
And been blighted, eonsumed by the toueh of Despair?
Can it be that the ardor whieh onee led thee on,
Awake from thy stupor I Arouse thee again!
Wouldst thon list to the foomsn exultingly ery,
Wouldst thou see thy friends mourning, in sorrow and shame,
O'er the wreek of thy glory, the brand on thy name?
Thou eanst not—thou dar'st not! Then up to the field!
Be strong in the right 1 *Tis a panoply sure,
FANCIES DURING ILLNESS.
BT FIDELIA H. COOK
Beaetteel visions, that before me swim,
Te are too fair to be the phantoms dim
The angel Morphia hath a shadowy train,
But no sueh forms as yours adorn her pale domain.
Are ye some mirage from th' Eternal shore?
A soft refleetion on the dreamlike mist
A she whose willowy marge my foot hath kissed:
Ah no! your beauty is of earth; it takes
Sueh forms as float before the artist's eye,
To that strange life that ne'er again shall die;
Oh, how mueh fairer than the shapes we see,
Too perfeet to be time I And sueh were ye;
And thus our nature still transeends our fate,
Like high-born foundlings left at some poor peasant's gate.
And ye have passed away, and left no traee,
And yet I faney that eaeh form of graee
And on the heart's red leaves, in traees dim,
Shall Poesy for you inseribe one grateful hymn.
BT JOHN W. BEAZEL.
There '8 musie in the sunbeam,
There's musie in the shower,
Eaeh leaf, and tree, and flower.
There's musie in the moonlit sea,
And o'er thy grave, sweet Ella Lee,
There's musie in the mountain height,
Where silver streams are flashing bright,
There's musie in the joyous spring,
And through eaeh bright and lovely thing
There was musie onee whose gentlest thrill
Was dearer far to me
Or starlight on the sea.
Its lute-like tones how oft they eome
With gentle thoughts of thee! But ah 1 they 're hushed within the tomb, Where sleeps my Ella Lee. Uhtontown, in.
AN EMBROIDERED VEST AND CAPS.
The materials are blue satin and embroidery silk. Tho pattern should be drawn with a white erayon. Then proeeed to do the outline of the design, the stoma and the tendrils in ehain stiteh. The leaves and the flowers in the usual embroidery stiteh. It is made up in the ordinary way, tho front fastened by a row of gold buttons set with turquoise. The same pattern may be worked either on laee or muslin. If laee, work in tambour and ehain stiteh; give the eollar and front a narrow thread edge, and line it with silk of some delieato hue. Studs may be substituted for buttons. Vests of eambrie muslin, to be worn with lawns or light summer silks, will be very mueh tho style the present and ensuing month. For deseription of embroidered muslin manilla, soo " Chitehat."
PATTERNS FOR SILK EMBROIDERY.
Tms pattern forma an elegant border for a merino or eloth eloak, by working the eurved line with eord and the rose-buds with silk.
KNITTED BERRIES AND FRUIT. APPLE AND ORANGE.
Cast on thirty-four astitehe3 with white knitting eotton, No. 10.
Knit one plain row.
Seeond rout.—Purled, till within two from the end, turn haek.
Third row.—Knit plain till within two from the end, turn haek.
Fourth roie.—Purled, till within four from the end, turn haek.
Fifth row.—Knit plain till within four from the end, turn haek.
Sixth row.—Purled, till within six from the end, turn haek.
Seventh row.—Knit plain till within six from the end, turn haek.
Eighth row.—Purled, till within eight from the end, turn haek.
Ninth row.—Knit plain till within eight from the end, turn haek.
Tmth row.—Purled to the end.
Eleventh row.—Unit plain to the end, and begin again as at seeond row; but the tenth row is to bo purled till within ten from the end: eleventh row knitted till within ten from the end; twelfth row purled to the end; thirteenth row knitted plain to the end. Then begin again as at seeond row. After fourteen stripes, ending alternately one at the eleventh, the other at the thirteenth row. Cast off all the stitehes; sew the two edges together; gather the stitehes of the smaller aperture, fasten them tight round the stalk of a eommon elove, and fill up with bran, as full as possible, this white shape of an apple; when it is nearly full, fold a hit of wire in ten or twelve; oover it with brownish floss or half twist silk to make the stalk of the apple; gather the stitehes of the seeond aperture, fill up with bran, as mueh as you ean, and fasten off tight to the stalk. Then knit another apple in wool or silk of the eolor of the apple whieh you have ehesen for model, and exaetly in the same manner as the white one, but beginning with thirty-eight or forty stitehes, and making one stripe more, or two plain rows between eaeh stripe. Cover neatly with this the white shape, allowing the olove to show its head only. Make a little depression round the stalk of the apple by passing through the fruit three or four times, with a long darningneedle, the silk with whieh you have fastened the last aperture, and draw it tight . A leaf may be added, but is not neeessary.
The orange is worked in the same manner, exeept that there are no purled rows, no elove put in, and no stalk.