Her Attractions Enhanced by Discreet Reserve.

Discreet reserve in a woman, like the distances kept by royal personages, contributes to maintain the proper reverence. Most of our pleasures are prized in proportion to the difficulty with which they are obtained. The sight of beauty may be justly reckoned in the number. It has been observed that “so long as they govern themselves by the just rules of prudence and modesty, their lustre is like the meridian sun in its clearness, which, though less approachable, is counted more glorious; but when they decline from those rules, they are like that sun in a cloud, which, though safelier gazed on, is not half so bright."

Fordyce.

Her Claim on Man's Respect.

The man who bears an honourable mind,
Will scorn to treat a woman lawlessly.

Shakespeare.

Her Responsibility of Choice.

Life or death, felicity or lasting sorrow, are in the power of marriage. A woman, indeed, ventures most, for she hath no sanctuary to retire to from an evil husband; she must dwell upon her sorrow, and hatch the eggs which her own folly or infelicity hath produced; and she is more under it because her tormenter hath a warrant of prerogative.

Taylor.

Retired to Rest.

Stars of the summer night!
Far in yon azure deeps,
Hide, hide your golden light!
She sleeps, my lady sleeps!
Sleeps!

Moon of the summer night!

Far down yon western steeps,

Sink, sink in silver light!

She sleeps, my lady sleeps!
Sleeps!

Wind of the summer night!

Where yonder woodbine creeps,

Fold, fold thy pinions light!
She sleeps, my lady sleeps!
Sleeps!

Dreams of the summer night!
Tell her her lover keeps
Watch, while in slumbers light
She sleeps, my lady sleeps!
Sleeps!

Longfellow.

Slumber be soft on thy beautiful eye!

Spirits whose smiles are like thine—of the sky,— Play thee to sleep with their visionless strings, Brighter than thou-but because they have wings! Fair as a being of heavenly birth,

But living and loved as a child of the earth!

Why is that tear? Art thou gone in thy dream,
To the valley far off, and the moon-lighted stream,
Where the sighing of flowers, and the nightingale's song,

Fling sweets on the wave, as it wanders along?
Blest be the dreams that restore them to thee,—
But thou art the bird,-and the roses to me.

And now as I watch o'er thy slumbers alone,

And hear thy low breathing, and know thee mine own,
And muse on the wishes that grew in that vale,
And the fancies we shaped from the river's low tale,

I blame not the fate that has taken the rest
While it left to my bosom its dearest and best.

Slumber be soft on thy beautiful eye!

Love be a rainbow to brighten the sky!

Oh, not for sunshine and hope would I part

With the shade time has flung over all-but thy heart! Still art thou all which thou wert when a child,

Only more holy-and only less wild!

How Revered by Young Men.

Hervey.

How little do lovely women know what awful beings they are in the eyes of inexperienced youth! Young men brought up in the fashionable circles of our cities will smile at this. Accustomed to mingle incessantly in female society, and to have the romance of the heart deadened by a thousand frivolous flirtations, women are nothing but women in their eyes; but to a susceptible youth like myself, brought up in the country, they are perfect divinities.

Washington Irving.

A Sailor's True Love for.

All in the Downs the fleet was moor'd,

The streamers waving in the wind,

When black-eyed Susan came aboard,

66

"Oh! where shall I my true love find?

Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true,

If my sweet William sails among the crew?"
William, who high upon the yard

Rock'd with the billow to and fro,
Soon as her well-known voice he heard,

He sigh'd, and cast his eyes below: The cord slides swiftly through his glowing hands, And, quick as lightning, on the deck he stands.

So sweet the lark, high poised in air,

Shuts close his pinions to his breast-
If chance his mate's shrill call he hear-
And drops at once into her nest.
The noblest captain in the British fleet
Might envy William's lip those kisses sweet.

"O Susan, Susan, lovely dear!

My vows shall ever true remain;

Let me kiss off that falling tear;

We only part to meet again.

Change as ye list, ye winds! my heart shall be
The faithful compass that still points to thee.
"Believe not what the landmen say,

Who tempt with doubts thy constant mind;
They'll tell thee, sailors, when away,
In every port a mistress find:

Yes, yes, believe them when they tell thee so,
For thou art present wheresoe'er I go.

"If to fair India's coast we sail,

Thy eyes are seen in diamonds bright, Thy breath is Afric's spicy gale,

Thy skin is ivory so white.

Thus every beauteous object that I view,
Wakes in my soul some charm of lovely Sue.

66

Though battle call me from thy arms,

Let not my pretty Susan mourn;

Though cannons roar, yet, safe from harms,

William shall to his dear return.

Love turns aside the balls that round me fly,
Lest precious tears should drop from Susan's eye."

The boatswain gave the dreadful word,

The sails their swelling bosom spread;

No longer must she stay aboard;

They kiss'd, she sigh'd, he hung his head. Her lessening boat unwilling rows to land, "Adieu!" she cries, and waved her lily hand.

Things Scorned by.

Gay.

Falsehood, cowardice, and poor descent,—
Three things that women highly hold in hate.

Her Self-denial in Poverty.

Shakespeare.

The frugal housewife trembles while she lights
Her scanty stock of brushwood, blazing clear;