Where is my cabin-door, fast by the wild wood? Sisters and sire, did ye weep for its fall? Where is my mother, that look'd on my childhood, And where is the bosom-friend, dearer than all? Oh! my sad soul, long abandon'd by pleasure, Why did it doat on a fast-fading treasure? Tears, like the rain drops, may fall, without measure, Yet, all its sad recollections suppressing, Land of my forefathers! ERIN-Go-BraGH! CAMPBELL. TRY AGAIN. KING BRUCE, of Scotland, flung himself down 'Tis true he was monarch, and wore a crown, For he had been trying to do a great deed, He had tried and tried, but couldn't succeed; He flung himself down in low despair, And after a while as he ponder'd there, Now just at the moment a spider dropp'd, With its silken cobweb clue ; And the king in the midst of his thinking stopp'd To see what the spider would do. 'Twas a long way up to the ceiling dome, That how it would get to its cobweb home, It soon began to cling and crawl Up, up it ran, not a second it stay'd, Till it fell still lower, and there it laid, Its head grew steady-again it went, And a road where its feet would tire. Again it fell and swung below, But again it quickly mounted; Sure," cried the king," that foolish thing When it toils so hard to reach and cling, But up the insect went once more, Steadily, steadily inch by inch, And a bold little run at the very last pinch "Bravo, bravo! the King cried out, 'All honour to those who try; The spider up there defied despair: He conquered, and why shouldn't I?" And Bruce of Scotland braced his mind, That he tried once more as he tried before, Pay goodly heed, all ye who read, Whenever you find your heart despair Con over this strain, try bravely again, ELIZA COOK. MUTUAL FORBEARANCE NECESSARY TO THE HAPPINESS OF THE MARRIED STATE. THE lady thus address'd her spouse: "What a mere dungeon is this house! And shall expect him at the door, Precisely when the clock strikes four.” "You are so deaf," the lady cried, And raised her voice, and frown'd beside, "You are so sadly deaf, my dear, What shall I do to make you hear?" 66 Dismiss poor Harry!" he replies ; "Some people are more nice than wise: For one slight trespass all this stir? What if he did ride whip and spur, 'Twas but a mile-your favourite horse Will never look one hair the worse.' "Well, I protest 'tis past all bearing"Child, I am rather hard of hearing "Yes, truly; one must scream and bawl, I tell you, you can't hear at all!" Then, with a voice exceeding low, "No matter if you hear or no." Alas! and is domestic strife, |