THE FRIENDS FROM REAL LIFE.

SPRIGHTLY Celia treads on air;
Mark the footsteps of the fair;
See her smoothly glide along,
Lightest of the smiling throng.
What pencil can her manner trace!
'Tis an ever-varying grace,

Animates her form and face.

Sweetest smiles with frowns are blending, Chiding now, and now commending.

Celia's sensitive all over;

A feeling friend, a fervent lover;
She can't endure a neutral part;

But loves and hates with all her heart:
And every way that heart's affected,
Its feelings on her face depicted.
We sparkling wit in Celia find,
With traits of an expanded mind.
She as a mother claims regard:
O! may her child her care reward.

To her in closest amity is join'd

A being, diff'ring both in form and mind;
Yet in essential points so well agreed,
That nothing can their mutual love exceed.
Her I will call Symphronia the sage;
For in her youth she bears the fruits of age.
She's unaffected, simple, and sincere,
And inly kind, when outwardly severe.
Her words are few, sententious, and just:
She's full of thoughts, that might get leave to
rust,

In sprightly Celia did not take delight
To draw the little embryos into light.
While her fair friend, still pondering what is fit,
Oft sets a bound to Celia's flowing wit;
Diverts its course, when likely to offend,
Nor deems a lively sally worth a friend.
Thus mutual benefits cement their love;

And with their years their friendship must improve.

Each as a dearer-self regards her friend,

And to the common good their sep'rate efforts tend.

CHRIST OUR SHEPHERD.

SIN shall no more dominion have,
Since Christ its reigning power hath broke;
Strict justice now can nothing crave
Of those who wear his easy yoke.
His spotless life the law fulfils;
His death the dreadful forfeit paid;.
His spirit a new life instills;

In him his people are re-made.
He triumphs over death and hell,
O'er principalities and powers,

O'er hearts accustom'd to rebel,
Even such harden'd hearts as ours.
Our Shepherd is the glorious King;
Our King the Shepherd of his sheep ;
Strong consolation this must bring:
Bless'd are the flock he deigns to keep.
Dear Jesus bring me to thy fold,
Encircled in thy arms divine;

On thee, on thee I fix my hold,

And nothing lack, since thou art mine.

L

To MRS. D.

Farewell, my friend, a long farewell!
A mournful sad adieu!

I call to mind the happy hours,
So sweetly spent with you:

Your gayety inspir'd delight,

And made the moments fly, Quick as the radiant beams of light, That sparkle in your eye.

The drooping spirits you can raise,

And make dejection gay ;

It is your power, be it

To banish care away.

your praise,

Is it from nature, or from art,
Your spirits still are free?

If you have power the charm t' impart,

I

pray you teach it me.

Write a receipt for cheerfulness,

And teach me how to find

That blessing of the highest rank,

That cordial of the mind.

But O! I doubt a countercharm

Will cause the cure to fail!

'Twill bring your absence to my mind; Then sadness must prevail.

SPRING.

HAIL, charming spring! once more return'd,

To greet my longing eyes;

Thy sweets dispel the wintry gloom,

And all its horror flies.

We see the blossom on the spray;
The birds in concert join;
Sweetly the moments glide away;
For every sweet is thine.

But ah! how transient is thy reign!

Thy beauties soon decay:

An emblem of youth's florid scene,

Which soon must wear away.

Then teach me, Lord, in this my prime,
In virtue's path to tread ;