LANGUAGE

YARROW.

Achillea Millefolium.

CURE FOR THE HEARTACHE.

I SAID, "You know

- you must have known

I long have loved-loved you alone,
But cannot know how dearly."

I told her, if my hopes were crossed,
My every aim in life was lost:

She knew I spoke sincerely.

She answered, as I breathless dwelt
Upon her words, and would have knelt,

All love may be expelled by other love,
As poisons are by poisons.

But loved he never after? Came there none
To roll the stone from his sepulchral heart,
And sit in it an angel?

DRYDEN.

BAILEY.

ALAS for my weary and care-haunted bosom!
The spells of the spring time arouse it no more ;
The song in the wildwood, the sheen in the blossom,
The fresh-swelling fountain-their magic is o'er!
When I list to the stream, when I look to the flowers,
They tell of the past, with so mournful a tone,
That I call up the throngs of my long-vanished hours,
And sigh that their transports are over and gone.

WILLIS G. CLARK.

Sad are the sorrows that oftentimes come,

Heavy and dull, and blighting and chill, Shutting the light from our heart and our home, Marring our hopes, and defying our will.

But let us not sink beneath the woe;

'Tis well, perchance, we are tried and bowed; For be sure, though we may not oft see it below, "There's a silver lining to every cloud."

So many great

Illustrious spirits have conversed with Woe,
Have in her school been taught, as are enough
To consecrate distress, and make ambition
E'en wish the frown beyond the smile of fortune.

Through suffering and sorrow thou hast passed
To show us what a woman true may be.

THOMSON.

J. K. LOWELL.

By each dark wave around the vessel sweeping,
Farther am I from old dear friends removed;
Till the lone vigil that I now am keeping,

I did not know how much you were beloved.
How many acts of kindness little heeded,

Kind looks, kind words, rise half reproachful now! Hurried and anxious, my vexed life has speeded, And memory wears a soft, accusing brow. My friends, my absent friends,

Do

you think of me as I think of you?

Sunshine is ever cheerful, when the morning
Wakens the world with cloud-dispelling eyes;
The spirits mount to glad endeavor, scorning
What toil upon a path so sunny lies.

Sunshine and hope are comrades, and their weather
Calls into life the energies of earth
But memory and moonlight go together,
Reflected in the light that either brings.
My friends, my absent friends,

Do you think of me then? I think of

買

you. L. E. LANDON.

THE HONEYMOON.

A SKETCH FROM LIFE.

If we were constantly to bear in mind, in our passage through life, that "'tis trifles make the sum of human things," how much of the misery into which many of us now heedlessly plunge might be entirely avoided! Unhappily, there are but few in the married state who, in their reminiscences, are enabled to look back upon the unbroken chain of bliss so beautifully depicted in the lines above quoted; and the only reason, that we can imagine, why it is not oftener realized, is

next to the natural perversity of our race the want of proper attention to the thousand little occurrences and unpleasant passages, confessedly trifling in themselves, but which, in the aggregate, "make up in number what they want in weight."

It is not, however, our intention, even were we equal to the task, to digress into a dissertation upon the various ills which afflict humanity, or the probable causes which produce them; but merely to present the reader with a brief sketch, which will perhaps serve, in some respect, to illustrate, as well the ease with which the seeds of unhappiness may be incautiously strewn in the hearts of those who love us, as also what may be considered the infant or incipient state of that

bright existence, warmed by that "sacred flame," which can alone qualify us

"To love in wintry age the same

As first in youth we loved."

A festival was given by a young married lady one of a numerous circle of acquaintances on the return of her birthday, which was likewise the first anniversary of her marriage. A large party of her young friends, the greater part of whom had knelt at the hymeneal altar at about the same time with herself, were present to enliven the occasion. Mr. and Madam Mayland (for such shall be the name of the host and hostess) presented a most felicitous union, and were noted for their tender regard for each other, which partook more of the romantic fondness which characterizes the young and the hopeful lover, than of what is usually observable in the staid realities of married life, of even less than a year's standing. Happy within themselves, they neglected no opportunity to administer to the joy and comfort of their friends whom they gathered about them, and possessing the most agreeable and winning manners, it was rafely that their efforts to please were unsuccessful.

With such beings to entertain, it is easily imagined that their visitors at such times would be under very little restraint in pursuing the pleasures of the hour; and restraint in such cases, as all know, is a great bar to enjoyment. The con