Impatience.

AWAY, away, bear me away,

Into the boundless void, thou mighty wind!
That rushest on thy midnight way,

And leav'st this weary world, far, far, behind!
Away, away, bear me away, away,

To the wide strandless deep,

Ye headlong waters! whose mad eddies leap
From the pollution of your bed of clay.

Away, away, bear me away, away,
Into the fountains of eternal light,
Ye rosy clouds! that to my longing sight
Seem melting in the sun's devouring ray !
Away! away! Oh, for some mighty blast
To sweep this loathsome life into the past.
MRS. BUTLER.

The Grave.

How peaceful comes the breeze around the burial-place of the dead! how sacred seems, even, the long grass waving by the head-stones of the departed. The soil is consecrated by graves - 't is the last, quiet resting-place of earth; 't is the narrow space which separates us from the awful mysteries of immortality; 't is the threshold of eternity. Here in long, dreamless sleep rests the perishing remains of humanity; and here shall come the first rays of the resurrection dawn, to arouse the slumbering ruins. Here Death once triumphed over life, as he extinguished its light in these dark chambers; but here shall be another conflict; Death shall retire 'mid his own darkness, when beams from the "excellent glory" shine through the opening fissures of the tomb; and bright spirits come in joy again to assume the

once corrupt, now incorruptible tenements prepared for the pure enjoyments of the spiritual world.

"HOURS OF LIFE."

Night.

'Tis night; yet oh, how beautiful the night! So beautiful, I would not wish it day;

But rather night forever, if the nights

Were all like this. How calm, how still the air!
How soft the moonlight! how serene the heavens!
How clear the watery mirror spread beneath!
And then how lovely the repose of earth,
Looking tranquility! I gaze and am
What I behold! I feel a soothing power
Entering my soul, that mildly whispers peace
And stills the tumult in my troubled breast.

H. PICKERING.

Bid me not Remember.

OH, bid me not remember now,

For darkness, sin and tears, Have swept forever from my brow The light of childhood's years.

Once there were hearts that loved me well,

And joys that deathless seemed to swell-
Those joys have faded from my breast,
Those hearts are silent and at rest.
Then bid me not remember now,
Since darkness, sin and tears
Have swept forever from my brow
The light of childhood's years.

The stream that in its earliest glee
Bounds on its onward track,
If once it reached the bitter sea,
Ye may not call it back.
Nor its stained waters ever bring,
Back to their unpolluted spring;
Nor can ye give again to me,
My youth's light-hearted purity.
Then bid me not remember now;
For darkness, sin and tears
Have swept forever from my brow
The light of childhood's years.

C. DONOLD MACLEAD.

Song.

I STAID too late; - forgive the crime

Unheeded flew the hours;

How noiseless falls the foot of time
That only treads on flowers!

What eye with clear account remarks

The ebbing of the glass,

When all its sands are diamond sparks,
Which dazzle as they pass.

O who to sober measurement
Time's happy fleetness brings,
When birds of paradise have lent
Their plumage for his wings.

HON. R W. SPENCER.

Romance.

YOUNG maiden who hast merely gone botanizing into the land of romance, and there picked up thy knowledge of men and of the world; who, on thy entrance into society anticipated with a fearful pleas