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Tell her that wastes her time on me,
That now she knows,

When I resemble her to thee,

How sweet and fair she seems to be.

Then die, that she

The common fate of all things rare

May read in thee;

How small a part of time they share,
That are so wondrous sweet and fair.

Yet, though thou fade,

From thy dead leaves let fragrance rise,
And teach the maid

That goodness time's rude hand defies;
That virtue lives when beauty dies.

Beautiful! Yes; but the blush will fade,

WALLER.

The light grow dim which the blue eyes wear,

The gloss will vanish from curl and braid,

And the sunbeam die in the waving hair.
Turn, turn from the mirror, and strive to win
Treasures of loveliness still to last;

Gather earth's glory and bloom within,

That the soul may be bright when youth is past.

MRS. OSGOOD.

HONEYSUCKLE.

Lonicera.

LANGUAGE-FIDELITY.

Be true to me!

Be as the star that burns

Calm and unchangéd in the midnight air,
When unto thee my wearied spirit turns
For sweet repose from all the storms of care:
Be true to me!

Be true to me!

Not always may the bloom

Of hope and gladness on my cheeks remain;

And when dark thoughts shall shade my soul with

gloom,

Thy tender accents still may soothe its pain:

Be true to me!

ANSWER.

I do not promise that our life

Shall know no shade on heart or brow;
For human lot and mortal strife

Would mock the falsehood of such vow.

But when the clouds of pain and care
Shall teach us we are not divine,
My deepest sorrows thou shalt share,
And I will strive to lighten thine.

If we love one another,

ΑΝΟΝ

ELIZA COOK.

Nothing, in truth, can harm us, whatever

Mischances may happen.

LONGFELLOW.

HONEYSUCKLE, WILD.

Azalea Procumbens.

LANGUAGE-INCONSTANCY.

INCONSTANT! are the waters so,

That fall in showers on hill and plain,
Then, tired of what they find below,
Ride on the sunbeams back again?

Pray, are there changes in the sky,

The winds, or in our summer weather?
In sudden change believe me, I

Will beat both clouds and winds together:
Nothing in air or earth may be

Fit type of my inconstancy.

My heart too firmly trusted, fondly gave
Itself to all its tenderness a slave;

I had no wish but thee, and only thee:
I knew no happiness but only while
Thy love-lit eyes were kindly turned on me.

ANON.

PERCIVAL.

Holy St. Francis! what a change is here!
Is Rosalind, whom thou dost hold so dear,
So soon forsaken? Young men's love, then, lies
Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.

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WITH every pleasing, every prudent part,
Say, what can Chloe want? She wants a heart.
She speaks, behaves, and acts just as she ought,
But never, never reached one generous thought;
Virtue she finds too painful an endeavor,
Content to dwell in decencies forever.
So very reasonable, so unmoved,

As never yet to love, or to be loved.

POPE.

I live among the cold, the false,
And I must seem like them;
And such I am, for I am false

As these I most condemn :
I teach my lip its sweetest smile,
My tongue its softest tone;

I borrow others' likeness, till
I almost lose my own.

On thy forehead sitteth Pride,
Crowned with scorn, and falcon-eyed;
But beneath, methinks, thou twinest
Silken smiles that seem divinest.
Can such smiles be false and cold?
Canst thou wilt thou wed for gold?

AYON.

BARRY CORNWALL.

A NEW YEAR'S COLLOQUY WITH TIME.

ELEVEN O'clock at night! But another hour, and all that remains of the present year will have been borne upon the tireless wing of Father Time into the great gulf of eternity; and the old fellow will have turned up his glass again, ground his scythe, and laid hold of the new year; prepared to roll it onward, evolving the future from the lapse of every moment, until he shall see it safely deposited in the great grave of the past, which swallows all things.

"Thou art a jolly old fellow, Father Time! Give us thy hand, and ere the bright sun of the first morning of the new year shines cheerfully over the grave of its departed brother, let us be a little sociable, and talk of the past. Do not be crusty; you need not stop in your onward march. I myself am somewhat of a traveller, and will walk an hour with you; only keep that confounded old scythe out of the way, which, since I first saw it pictured upon the cover of the Farmer's Almanac, along with the matter-of-fact couplet, —

Time cuts down all,
Both great and small,”-

I never could look at without shuddering.

"Thou hast visited all countries and all climes; thou hast been in strange lands, and beheld many

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