Wrapt with a turf of fresher green-and marked To moulder in at last. Was walled by lime and mango trees, that hung And through its arcade the broad sunny stream And peaceful. He that looked upon those graves One was a sailor's bed,-a blythe light heart Over the ship's side, dreaming of his home: How he had seen the phantom lights that gleam O'er the wrecked seaman's lair, and the "doomed ship" When shaded lamps were hung on the young trees, And the brown girls made them forget their homes. One day some happy hearts had wandered down The sailor was amongst them. They returned The child was saved, but the bright river waves The " By his side A broken heart's at rest. A simple girl 554031 Like dews o'er thirsty sands! Oh then methought See! The myrtle bush is fading on her grave: That is a mother's grave, weep not for her; These are four graves, marked out by Pestilence Beneath this mango East Cambridge. A. L. P. THE LATE EMPRESS MARIA LOUISA. EXTRACT FROM A JOURNAL. PARMA, SUNDAY, NOV. 11, 1827. PARMA is interesting as the residence of Maria Louisa, late Empress Queen of France and Italy. The city contains 30,000 inhabitants, and together with Placentia, Guastalla, and some eight or ten villages and hamlets, forms the Grand Dutchy, of which the late wife of Napoleon is the Sovereign. She still retains the title of MAJESTY, and it is the only instance, that I know, of a Dutchess wearing the appellation To Dukes, belongs the title of "Highness" with different degrees of augmentations, from the humble "Serene" to that of "Royal and Imperial Highness." SHE, still claims "Majesty." And her style is, And her style is, "Her Majesty Maria Louisa Arch-Dutchess of Austria, and Dutchess of Parma, Placentia and Guastalla, &c. &c. &c." But hers, no more, is the emphatic Majesty, of "Empress of the French and Queen of Italy,"-hers, no more, is the privilege to share dominion with a spirit, which swayed more kingdoms and nations, than she can now boast cities and villages,-hers, no longer, is the proud preeminence, of being looked up to, as the most exalted crowned female in the world. She is still a Sovereign on a small scale, and has her Palaces and public Gardens: but if she partakes of the soul of Napoleon, when she looks around among her Palaces, how must she be disappointed, when she thinks of the Thuilleries, of Versailles and Fontainbleau! As she enters her Gardens, what must be her sensations when she remembers the Imperial Gardens of France! She has also her military establishment, and as she issues from her narrow abode in her carriage, the trumpets flourish, the drums beat in salutation, and some eight or ten score of soldiers present their arms: but what are these compared to as many hundred thousand, that moved like a vast machine, at the nod of the Emperor? What are the shouts of the scanty population of Parma, to the deafening cries of "vive l' Emperatrice,"—once heard in Paris? Her bust adorns the Gallery of Paintings in her present Palace it is of marble, and by Canova, and indeed an exquisite specimen of the skill of that artist he has given the image, the features and the expression of the princess: but fortunately, the art of Canova extended no farther could he have endowed it with animation, and sensation and reflection, it must have led a life of unhappiness, in gazing about this little Gallery, and reflecting upon the unrivalled Gallery of the Louvre at Paris. These reflections might be extended almost infinitely, and the result would be the same in contrasting every part of this Dukedom, with the French Empire. But after all, she may be as happy as she was in her proudest days: Empire does not always bring contentment: if she finds it here, surely every one is ready to say, may she long live to enjoy it. It is a treasure that her husband never found in his most prosperous days. "I am tired of this old Europe," said Napoleon once, in the plenitude of his power: he was restless and discontented, in the possession of the homage of nearly all Europe. How vain then in reality, proved the most magnificent fabric of Ambition, that the world ever witnessed! It rose rapidly like a brilliant meteor, but satisfied not its possessor, and vanished still more suddenly, leaving mankind to wonder, equally at its rise and its fall. The Dutchess is probably as truly happy, in the sincere affections of her present subjects, as was the Empress in possession of the pompous homage of all the Imperial conti nent. J. T. A. MORALIZING. "We take no note of Time But by its loss." No class of people complain more of the shortness of time than the idle. They are never ready for exertion: believing that tomorrow will be more abundant than today they procrastinate, and thus lose the moments, that, judiciously employed, might insure them success, in vain expectations of that propitious season when they shall have full leisure to perform some mighty enterprise, or greater facilities to execute some favorite project. But such golden opportu nities are awarded only to the minions of fortune-the working-day world must not expect to enjoy them. The majority of those, who have emerged from the crowd, owe their elevation almost solely to the improvement of short intervals, and the employment of apparently trivial means. severance will accomplish what energy alone fails to perform. Per It is peculiarly necessary that those who would cultivate |