My simple tale-a boyish love

(The o'erword of a village song)
A hope on earth-a vow above-
A blighted blossom cherished long.

A few months past ;—and when again
With mine thy altered glances blend,
As thy cold hand on mine was lain,
Thou bid'st me be, as aye, thy friend.

And yet, methinks, our eyes have met
In more than friendship's mellowed light;
Our hands have clasped,—I feel it yet
As 'twere a thing of yesternight.
Hast thou forgot,-canst thou forget,
As up the woodside path we learned
By gloamin light love's lesson set,
The burning kiss ?-by thee returned!

Was't dull esteem or cold conceit

That bade me ever cling to thee,
And thee my fond advances meet,
As bends the floweret to the bee?

True: broken pledge or severed tie
I cannot urge; our spirits read
The contract, signed and sealed on high,
Where looks and sighs are regist'red.

Nor fair estate, nor fashion light,

Nor rank, nor gold allured thee there;
His wit was not so very bright,
His face was not so very fair.

Yet will I not in vain rebel,

Nor murmur o'er the idle toy I've lost; I read the riddle well— He was a man,—and I, a boy.

E

FRIENDSHIP.

ARRAY'D in Fancy's hues, o'er life's young spring,
When Hope exulting waves her balmy wing,
And all unstain'd by sorrow or by crime,
Thro' thornless roses lies the path of Time,-
Oh! say what charm each little care beguiles,
And throws fresh brightness o'er the sunniest smiles:
On Friendship only such delights attend,
For where were boyhood's bliss without a friend?
When mourns the heart o'er passion's broken vow,
When years have written toil on manhood's brow,
And fairy hopes at length have ceased to shine,
And Memory sits in tears at Sorrow's shrine,—
Yet all that made the young world seem so fair,
All hath not fled,-one solace still is there,
The dearest gift to mortals from above,

The balm of Friendship, "passing woman's love."
And oh! when sickness racks the sunken frame,
And chilling age has quell'd the soul of flame,
When, quench'd in sad decay, the eye is dim,
And reft for ever is the buoyant limb,
That wingless* seraph by the sufferer's bed
Sheds consolation o'er the drooping head;
Bids the last doubts of lingering frailty cease,
And to the wounded spirit whispers peace;
In love's embrace receives the parting breath,
And smooths the passage to the vale of Death.

THE TRIUMVIRATE.

THE EDITORS' STUDY, six feet by ten. Mr. HARRY MOUBRAY at the head of the table, supported by Mr. CHARLES IVERLY and Mr. GEORGE BUCHANAN.

M.—“Now, my dear fellows, for the remaining papers. Here is Moore's boy come for five more pages,

"L'amitié est l'amour sans les ailes."

and the press is at a stand till they are sent. Overhaul the draw-full of Visions,' and see if there is one short enough."

B.-"Nothing under ten pages folio at the very

least."

I.-"Let us throw in five or six sonnets, and plenty of spacing.'

B.—“Or this carefully-written 'Fragment' of 'School Reminiscences'."

I." Either will do. Or let us dress up a good long 'Notice to Correspondents'; nothing more common, and the jokes so easy! We make our own premises to come to the predetermined conclusion. Now then, begin: 'We are infinitely obliged by the sarcasm of A. B., but we don't feel his sting.'—' Lines to a Lobster,' we suspect to come from the Shell.-The verses inscribed To Selina,' we

M.-"Hold! hold! Mr. Secretary; no such miserable trifling. This is really a matter of life and death: our publisher assures us he could never survive the disappointment of not being out to his time. And we have hosts of real correspondents to thank and answer, without any such wretched creations of your own."

B.-" And first let us return our general thanks for the kind manner in which our humble efforts have been seconded, both here and elsewhere, by our schoolfellows past and present, by Carthusians and non-Carthusians, by governors and governed, by private friends and public patronage."

M.-"Yes, without the cheering support-- but let us first say our say to our Correspondents, and then to the Public."

NOTICE TO CORRESPONDENTS.

66

We fear that we must decline the ballad of “ Edred

and Ella”; there is certainly simplicity in the style,— perhaps too much,-and we doubt if the author has sufficiently studied the English metres. In another copy of verses, we suspect from the same author, occur four lines ending thus, "serene, beam-done, home”: surely his catechism must have told him the difference between "M. or N."

We would gladly have opened the portals of No. I. wider to Sesame, but there is a negligence about his compositions wholly inexcusable. We trust that our hint may have its due effect; till then our pages will be proof against his spell.

The kindly-expressed feeling of the author of the "Carthusian-Lempriêrean-Thyestean Reminiscence," will always secure our good-will, and probably a place in No. II.; but he will perceive that the spirit of his communication has been anticipated, for the present number, in prose. His "Acrostic" is purposely reserved for our next number.

Mere want of room and previous engagement obliges us to postpone, for future consideration, “A Query," "Vale," "Cave," "Incubus," "Prometheus," and several others that have arrived too late even to be read. Our number is made up much sooner than our correspondents conceive, and we are obliged to reserve the privilege of late insertion to ourselves.

Thus with real regret we postpone an essay, entitled "Sound and Sense," to the ensuing number, where we hope to find room also for a paper from our friend Larkins, "Love from a Coachbox," "The Skull," "The Auditor's Tale," "The Battle Song," "Athens," "Critique on Ovid," and "The Charterhouse Song," which latter “untoward" circumstances have hindered from making its appearance to-day.

To the author of "Friendship" we are under great

obligations, and our thanks are hereby given. We shall be disappointed if he does not continue his communications in both styles. Our gratitude has already, through another channel, been conveyed to the author of "The Skull." The translation from Soph. Œd. Col. is accepted. If the writer of the "First Day at Charterhouse" will follow our advice, elsewhere given, he will probably see himself in print next time.

N.B. Our little villains of fags so upset our papers in hunting for a rat last Saturday afternoon, that we fear some contributions have escaped in the confusion; but as we mean to have a thorough clearance of the study as soon as No. I. is fairly started, we shall hope to find the missing articles in time to notice them in No. II.

N.B. 2nd. In consequence of many earnest inquiries, we beg to state, that "Hints for being Flogged" will certainly soon make its appearance, the "Art of Pluck" being in the hands of our first-rate reviewer.

"And now, gentlemen," exclaimed Moubray, when the Council of Three' had severally given in their quota of the foregoing remarks, and had conjointly agreed to the report, "if I had but an audience I could make them a speech."

I.-"Send for some of the Unders."
B.-" Or why not the Sub-Editors?
M.- "Let us send for both."

B.-"But the Study won't hold half of them." M." Then we will adjourn to the Dormitory." To the Dormitory they accordingly adjourned; the fags were sent for, who, under the directions of Iverly, quickly pulled forward a bed into the centre of the room, and having placed a huge arm-chair upon it for the President, and two stools for the other members of the council, the Triclinium was complete. At the sug