And by her to her infant dear
Sent in the springtime of the year.

These he with right good-will did don;
And to his mother thereupon

A chariot gave, in triumph led

By turtles twelve all harnessed.

Before the altar saw I blooming fair

Two cypresses embalm'd with odors rare.
And these, quoth they, are pillars that do bide
To stay this altar, famèd far and wide.
And then a thousand birds upon the wing
Amid those curtains green came fluttering,
Ready to sing their little songs divine.

And so I ask'd, why came they to that shrine?

And these, they said, are matins, friend, which they In honor of Love's queen are come to say.

THE TEMPLE OF LOVE.

TORCHES quench'd or flaming high,
That all loving pilgrims bear

Before the saints that list their prayer,
Are posies made of rosemary.

Many a linnet and canary,

And many a gay nightingale,
Amid the green-wood's leafy shroud,
Instead of desks on branches smale,
For verse. response and 'pistle loud,
Sit shrilling of their merry song.

The windows were of crystal clear,
On which old guests depeinten are,
Of such as with true hearts did hold
The laws by Love ordain'd of old.

FREDERICK MARRYAT.

MARRYAT, FREDERICK, an English naval officer and novelist, born in London, July 10, 1792; died at Langham, Norfolk, August 9, 1848. At the age of fourteen he entered the navy. During his service he was present at more than fifty engagements, received rapid promotion, and in 1818 was awarded the medal of the Humane Society for "at least a dozen" rescues. In the Burmese War of 1824-25 he commanded the "Larne." When, in 1830, he retired from the navy, he was a Companion of the Bath, an officer of the League of Honor, and a member of other honorable orders. His first novel, "Frank Mildmay," was published in 1829, his second, "The King's Own,” in 1830. His subsequent works were "Newton Forster" (1832); "The Pacha of Many Tales" and "The Pirate and the Three Cutters " (1835); "Mr. Midshipman Easy" and "Japhet in Search of a Father" (1836); "Peter Simple" and "Jacob Faithful" (1834); "Snarleyyow" (1837); "The Phantom Ship" (1839); "Olla Podrida" and "Poor Jack" (1840); "Masterman Ready" and "Joseph Rustbrook, or The Poacher" (1841); "Percival Keene" (1842); "Monsieur Violet" (1843); "The Settlers in Canada” and "The Privateersman" (1846); "The Mission, or Scenes in Africa" (1845); "The Children of the New Forest" and "The Little Savage" (1848-49); and "Valerie," completed by another hand (1849). He also visited America, and in 1839 published his impressions and opinions in " A Diary in America, with Remarks on Its Institutions."

AN EPISODE OF THE SEA.

(From "Peter Simple.")

WE had not been more than a week under the Danish island of St. Thomas when we discovered a brig close in-shore. We made all sail in chase, and soon came within a mile and a half of the shore, when she anchored under a battery, which opened its fire upon us. Their elevation was too great, and several shots passed over us and between our masts.

"I once met with a very remarkable circumstance," observed Captain Kearney. "Three guns were fired at a frigate I was

on board of from a battery, all at the same time. The three shots cut away the three topsail ties, and down came all our topsail yards upon the cap at the same time. That the Frenchmen might not suppose that they had taken such good aim, we turned up our hands to reef topsails; and by the time that the men were off the yards the ties were spliced and the topsails run up again."

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Mr. Phillott could not stand this most enormous fib, and he replied, Very odd, indeed, Captain Kearney; but I have known a stranger circumstance. We had put in the powder to the four guns on the main deck when we were fighting the Danish gun-boats in a frigate I was in, and, as the men withdrew the rammer, a shot from the enemy entered the muzzle, and completed the loading of each gun. We fired their own shot back upon them, and this occurred three times running."

"Upon my word," replied Captain Kearney, who had his glass upon the battery, "I think you must have dreamt that circumstance, Mr. Phillott."

"Not more than you did about the topsail ties, Captain Kearney."

Captain Kearney at that time had the long glass in his hand, holding it over his shoulder. A shot from the battery whizzed over his head, and took the glass out of his hand, shivering it to pieces. "That's once," said Captain Kearney, very coolly; "but will you pretend that that could ever happen three times running? They might take my head off, or my arm, next time, but not another glass; whereas the topsail ties might be cut by three different shot. But give me another glass, Mr. Simple: I am certain that this vessel is a privateer. What think you, Mr. O'Brien?"

"I am every bit of your opinion, Captain Kearney,” replied O'Brien; " and I think it would be a very pretty bit of practice to the ship's company to take her out from under that footy battery."

"Starboard the helm, Mr. Phillott; keep away four points, and then we will think of it to-night."

The frigate was now kept away, and ran out of the fire of the battery. It was then about an hour before sunset, and in the West Indies the sun does not set as it does in the northern latitudes. There is no twilight: he descends in glory, surrounded with clouds of gold and rubies in their gorgeous tints; and once below the horizon, all is dark. As soon as it was