The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore, And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more. And then I think of one who in her youthful beauty died, The fair meek blossom that grew up and faded by my side. In the cold moist earth we laid her, when the forest cast the leaf, And we wept that one so lovely should have a lot so brief; Yet not unmeet it was, that one, like that young friend of ours, So gentle and so beautiful, should perish with the flowers, BRYANT. 110.--THE CORAL GROVE. DEEP in the wave is a coral grove, Their bows where the tides and billows flow; For the winds and waves are absent there, The fan-coral sweeps through the clear deep sea; And is safe when the wrathful spirit of storms The purple mullet and gold-fish rove, Through the bending twigs of the coral grove. PERCIVAL. 111.-LORD BYRON'S LAST VERSES. 66 Missolonghi, Jan. 23, 1824. 'Tis time this heart should be unmoved, My days are in the yellow leaf, The flowers and fruits of love are gone, The fire that in my bosom preys The hope, the fear, the jealous care, But 'tis not here-it is not here Such thoughts should shake my soul; nor now— Where glory seals the hero's bier, Or binds his brow. The sword, the banner, and the field, Awake! not Greece-she is awake! I tread reviving passions down, If thou regret thy youth,-why live? Seek out-less often sought than found- BYRON. 112.-THE BUGLE. But still the dingle's hollow throat O! WILD enchanting horn! Lady of the Lake. Whose music up the deep and dewy air Wake, wake again, the night' Is bending from her throne of beauty down, Night, at its pulseless noon! When the far voice of waters mourns in song, Hark! how it sweeps away, As if some sprite of sound went wandering by, Swell, swell in glory out! Thy tones come pouring on my leaping heart, O! have ye heard that peal, From sleeping city's moon-bathed battlements, Or have ye in the roar Of sea, or storm, or battle, heard it rise, Go, go-no other sound, No music that of air or earth is born, MELLEN. 113.-A HEALTH. I FILL this cup to one made up of loveliness alone, To whom the better elements and kindly stars have given A form so fair, that, like the air, 'tis less of earth than heaven. Her every tone is music's own, like those of morning birds, And something more than melody dwells ever in her words; The coinage of her heart are they, and from her lips each flows As one may see the burden'd bee forth issue from the rose Affections are as thoughts to her, the measure of her hours, Her feelings have the fragrance and the freshness of young flowers; And lonely passions changing oft, so fill her, she appears The image of themselves by turns-the idol of past years. Of her bright face one glance will trace a picture on the brain, And of her voice in echoing hearts a sound must long remain ; But memory such as mine of her so very much endears, When death is nigh, my latest sigh will not be life's, but hers. I fill this cup to one made up of loveliness alone, Her health and would on earth there stood some more of such a frame, That life might be all poetry, and weariness a name. PINKNEY. 114.--EXTRACT FROM MR. WEBSTER'S SPEECH, AT THE DIN NER IN HONOUR OF THE MEMORY OF WASHINGTON, IN THE CITY OF WASHINGTON, FEBRUARY 22, 1832. I RISE, gentlemen, to propose to you the name of that great man, in commemoration of whose birth, and in honour of whose character and services, we have here assembled. I am sure that I express a sentiment common to every one present when I say, that there is something more than ordinarily solemn and affecting on this occasion. We are met to testify our regard for him, whose name is intimately blended with whatever belongs most essentially to the prosperity, the liberty, the free institutions, and the renown of our country. That name was of power to rally a nation, in the hour of thick-thronging public disasters and calamities; that name shone, amid the storm of war, a beacon light, to cheer and guide the country's friends; its flame, too, like a meteor, to repel her foes. That name, in the days of peace, was a loadstone, attract |