S — y thou dearest soft Retreat adieu
Methink I tremble at the leaving you;
You, whose safe Harbour kindly did receive,
My Shipwrack'd Vessel and gave means to live:
With Gilded Stern and Gaudy Sails I mov'd,
Fraught with this Wish, be Great and be Belov'd.
My Pageant Bark undauntedly I steer'd,
No Rocks nor Wind, nor Enemies I fear'd:
Young and unskill'd in this unlucky Sea,
For want of Ballast, Storms did ruin me.
That blast of Hell, rude spiteful Pop'ler breath,
Tore all my Sails and threaten'd sudden Death;

BY MRS. AMELIA B. WELDY .

Like flowers that softly bloom together,
Upon one fair and fragile stem,
Mingling their sweets in sunny weather,
Ere strange rude hands have parted them:
So were we linked unto each other,
Sweet Sisters! in our childish hours,
For then one fond and gentle Mother
To us was like the stem to flowers.
She was the golden thread that bound us
In one bright chain together here,

The greatest gift that from their lofty thrones
The all-governing pow'rs to man can give,
Is, that he never breath, or breathing once
A suckling end his daies, and leave to live;
For then he neither knows the woe nor joy
Of life, nor feares the Stygian lake's annoy.

The angry winds not aye
Do cuff the roaring deep,
And though heavens often weep,
Yet do they smile for joy when comes dismay:
Frosts do not ever kill the pleasant flow'rs,
And love hath sweets when gone are all the soures.
This said a shepheard, closing in his armes
His deare, who blusht to feele love's new alarmes.

Will this be true? Oh, it sounds like true!
Is Jeffreys dead at last?
They say that the breath he drew for death
Went out like a furnace blast.

They say he cried so horribly,
That no one durst come nigh;
But only a bat and an old grey rat
Sat up to see him die.

They came at morn and found him dead,
Alone on his truss of straw:
And the hair stood up on the corpse's head
At that which the dead eyes saw.

So horribly the dead eyes stared; —
That last sight had so frozen them, —
That not a man or woman dared

O ye, that seek through blood and tears
The justice which kind earth hath lacked,
Marvel not ye because man fears
To drop his old coercion act.

Whose record in the past was dark
Sees darkness in the future too;
Because with iron he made his mark,
By that same brand he judges you.

The unborn age afflicts his mind,
Of powers misused he stands afraid;
Haunted he goes, and hears behind
The worn and wasteful past upbraid.

His stripes ye bear; but when ye gain
Your victory — then comes recompense,

A WITCHCRAFT CASE OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY

Once, upon the spring of day
On the summer side of May,
Good men faring forth to toil,
Ere the sun had warmed the soil,
Found an old crone, withered, worn,
Sitting by a field of corn.

There amid the springing green
Of the young blades she was seen
Bending an attentive head
To the new year's make of bread.
And wherever wheat stood high,
Testing it with careful eye
And brown fingers, lean and long,
Thus she crooned her wheat-ear song:

BY MRS. ANNE P. DINNIES .

Come, rouse thee, dearest! — 't is not well
To let the spirit brood
Thus darkly o'er the cares that swell
Life's current to a flood.
As brooks, and torrents, rivers, all,
Increase the gulf in which they fall,
Such thoughts, by gathering up the rills
Of lesser griefs, spread real ills;
And, with their gloomy shades, conceal
The land-marks Hope would else reveal.

Come, rouse thee, now — I know thy mind,

Sleep, my babe, your road of dreams
By the fire-flies shall be lighted:
See them link their tingling teams
Round you, lest you go be-nighted!

Off to-night your father flies
Honey from the stars to bring:
Star-town, ah, how far it lies!
Thither he goes travelling.

But at daybreak, big with news,
Backward riding he shall come,
Bright of hoof across the dews,
Beating on a golden drum!

ON THE FIRST LEAF OF MY COMMON-PLACE BOOK .

BY JAMES B. MARSHALL .

Here, Mary, may'st thou read my thoughts
 When I am far away from thee,
Gather'd like autumn-leaves, that fall
 Upon a waveless sea.

Here may'st thou trace the sunny dream
 That brightened o'er my boyhood's brow,—
Here may'st thou learn whence that dark shade
 Which made me pensive now.

Here may'st thou see the smile of love,
 When rapture woke beneath thy smile;
Here may'st thou mark the blanched cheek—