She boasts about the garden's bloom,
With living roses sprinkled o'er-
What are they to the dancing room,

With flowers in chalk upon the floor!
Where music rises clear and high,
To banish sadness and regrets;
Where pleasure beams in every eye—
And Harry whispers 'tween the sets!

But here, e'en here, Time passes on-
Dear Time! don't spare your lazy wing;
Winter and snow will soon be gone,

And Harry joins us in the spring.

How sweet shall be the sheltered glen !

The bird's soft music sounding through!

How I shall love to listen then

If Harry loves to listen too!

How lifeless now each scene appears-
How gaudily those gardens flaunt
And then -so dull-one never hears
Soft pretty speeches from one's aunt !
Well-but 'twould be absurd to weep,
Though sorrow thus my memory racks-

I'll off and sink my woes in sleep,
And dream of Harry and Almack's!

POLAR SCENES.

WHITHER, Swift Fancy? Lo! the freezing seas
Of Greenland, where on icebergs high-uppiled
Breaks the rude polar wave. The eider-duck,
That, through the summer's endless sunshine, sought
And found, upon these half-forsaken shores,
Shelter and home and sustenance, hath winged
Its long, long way to southern waves; but still,
Master and tyrant of the drear domain,

Growls the brown famished bear uncouth, and paws
In search of prey the snowy waste; the morse
Dives floundering; and the silver-vested seal,
Cold-blooded, slumbers on the icy shelf.

Wrapt in the changeful vision, on the view Widens the desolate Lapland plains, where life Is dwarfed; and, through the half-unmelted snows, Shews the green juniper its early leaves.

Can these be human dwellings? yes, within
These cabins, low and rudely thatched, from which
Ascends the yellow smoke, beat bosoms warmed
By kindliest sympathies. Around them feed
The timid rein-deer, with their antlered heads,
Wide-scattered; and the docile-looking dog
Watches from lichened brae their dappled fawns
Cropping the new-seen herbage of the glen.

DELTA.

The moon shines down to earth,

And the star-ray thither flieth;

To the wave that gave it birth

Turns the mountain-stream, or dyeth,

With a panting for the ocean,

As my spirit pants for Thee:

But, alas! though thou 'rt my chosen,

It is Thou must stoop to me!

HOME-SICKNESS.

BY JOHN BANIM.

OH! here are not the smiling eyes,

The earnest word and hand,

That sooth the stranger's home-sick sighs

In our own native land

In our own native land!

- my dear,

Friends we have found, and they have done

Kind service in our need;

But oh, not with the word and tone

That grace a gracious deed-
That grace a gracious deed!

Oh, no! not in the blessed way

- my dear,

That saves the stranger's blush,

And smiles, and wiles the tears to stay

That in his heart will gush

my dear,

That in his heart will gush!

And at their gay and gorgeous boards,

And at their winter hearth,

We have sat down, and heard their words

Of welcome and of mirth

Of welcome and of mirth :

my dear,

But, oh! they echoed not the sound

Of those same words of old,

Or in our hearts no echo found,

Or they were cold, cold, cold my dear,

Or they were cold, cold, cold!

THE THREE MANSIONS.

BY MRS. C. E. RICHARDSON.

"O HOMELESS and unsheltered head!"
Desponding pilgrim, weep not so:
Three mansions are before you spread –
TO ONE you must, to ALL may go !

Each offers freely, and has room

For all earth's travellers, rich and poorThe House of God, His Heaven, the Tomb, Have each, for all, an open door.

Go lowly to the House of Prayer,

With stedfast faith and contrite breast; Then shall the Narrow House prepare

For weary limbs a welcome rest.

Cherish the THREE in daily thought —

The House of God, the Grave, and Heaven,

And all by Sin and Sorrow wrought

Shall pass away and be forgiven!