Yet long will it be ere I love one so true, So ardent, so dearly, as once I loved you; When a word, or a glance, my fond bosom could warmE'en your faults I confess had the power to charm. But the pleasing illusions shall never again In my bosom excite either pleasure or pain." Thus the love that for months and for years was my theme, Yes, passion has fled, and now tranquil and free ALONZO. SABBATH EVENING. BY JOSEPH PROUD, N. H. M. The day of rest is nearly gone, For what is given this day of rest? With milk and honey fed; That we should cease from earthly care, Then O, my soul, thy God obey, And walk in truth and love; And soon sit down above. EVENING. 'Tis pleasant, when the world is still, And EVENING's mantle shrouds the vale, Pour her deep notes along the dale; With various notes assist the glee, Nor once through all the night are mute. The streamlet murmurs o'er its bed, Bid the green bullrush bend its head, Throws magic shades o'er EVENING'S vest; 'Tis then the hour for sober thought, And shows the boasting mortal blind; SELIM. SUICIDE. When all the blandishments of life are gone, The coWARD sneaks to death-the BRAVE live on. THE WREATH OF LOVE. [TUNE--Lovely Nan.] Let FAME her wreath for others twine, Where HAVoc's blood-stain'd banner's move; Where ACADALIA's banner floats, And wear the gentler WREATH OF LOVE. The balmy rose let stoics scorn, The floweret's balsam shall remove; And freshens still the WREATH OF LOVE. Give me contentment, peace and health, Connubial bliss, unknown to strife, A never-fading WREATH OF LOVE. SELIM. VARIETY. "But, alas! what is taste! A disease of the mind, REFLECTIONS ON THE MILKY WAY. When we examine the sky at night, we perceive in it a pale and irregular light over our heads, a certain quantity of stars, whose mixed rays form this light. This apparent cloud, or luminous tract, is commonly called the milky way. These stars are too far from us, to be perceived separately with the naked eye; and between those which are visible through a glass, there are spaces discoverable, which, in all probability, are filled by an immense quantity of other stars, which even the telescope cannot make visible. It is true, that the number already discovered is prodigious; but if we could make our observations on another side of the globe, from a part nearer the antarctic pole, we should then make still more discoveries; we should see a great number of stars which have never appeared in our hemisphere. And even then we should not know half, perhaps not a millionth part of the radiant bodies which the immense expanse of the heavens contain. The stars which we see in the milky way, appear to us no more than shining specks, yet they are much larger than the globe of the earth. Whatever instrument we make use of, they still appear as before. If an inhabitant of our globe could travel in the air, and could attain the height of one hundred and sixty millions of leagues, those bodies of fire would still appear only like shining specks. However incredible this may seem, it is not a chimerical idea, but a fact which has actually been proved; for, towards the tenth of December we were more than one hundred and sixty millions of leagues nearer the northern part of the sky, than we shall be the tenth of June; and notwithstanding that difference, we did not perceive any difference of size in those stars. This milky way, so inconsiderable in comparison of the whole space of the heavens, is sufficient to prove the greatness of the Supreme Being; and every star discovered in it, teaches us the wisdom and goodness of God. What are those stars in comparison of the immense quantity of globes and worlds which roll in the firmament! A late ingenious astronomer, by help of a telescope of remarkable power, has discovered beyond conjecture this account of the milky way, and says, "That even our sun, and in consequence our whole solar system, forms but a part of the radiant circle. Many small specks in the heavens, unseen by mortal eye, he discovers to consist of myriads of stars; being, as he supposes, entire systems of themselves." Here reason stops, and is confounded: to admire and adore is all that remains for us to do. COLONEL DAVIESS. Colonel Daviess, who fell in the battle of the Wabash, was a man of high character, a native of Kentucky. He was a Lawyer whose character was tinged with those eccentricities that indicated future genius. There was a difficult question to decide before the court of Kentucky, involving an important question in regard to the title of an estate. The case embraced a long concatenation of facts and sundry technical niceties. When the case was called, a Kentucky hunter, with his musket and bird-bag, loaded with provisions, all equipped and complete, entered the hall and took his seat among the lawyers. There was a grin on the faces of the Bar, Court, Jury and Spectators. He, all unconscious, took out his provisions and began to eat with the most perfect compoThe Lawyer, on the side of the plaintiff, rose, and made a long argument. And who answers for the defendant? inquired the court. I do, replied the Hunter, and rising, broke forth into a torrent of eloquence that astonished the court and jury. Away went the plaintiff, law and evidence; and so complete was the discomfiture, that the opposite counsel made a most piteous reply. sure. The jury found a verdict for the defendant without retiring from their seats, when the court adjourned and invited the stranger to their lodgings. "No, I thank you, gentlemen; and unless you will take a cold cut with me, I must be gone." So saying, he shouldered his musket, and with great sang froid departed. Such a man was Col. Daviess. |