LOVE'S LESSON.

TRUST, if you will, the tranquil sea,
So calm, so blue, so bright,

Think not the storm waits fretfully

To crush you in its might;

Trust, if you will, the splendour clear

Of April's fairest sky,

Believe no cloud will dare appear-
But trust not Woman's eye.

Trust, if you will, the Tyrant grim,

When he is pleased to smile;

Trust in the Mob, more fierce than him,

More ruthless and more vile;

Trust all the lies, told but in jest,

Poets have ever sung;

Trust fawning slave, or canting priest

But trust not Woman's tongue.

Trust in the Miser's charity,

Or in the hangman's ruth;

Trust in the dotard's energy,
As in the calm of youth;

Trust in the alchemist's dark skill,

The necromancer's art;

Trust all and everything you will—
But trust not Woman's heart.

Her eye is false each glance is sped

With sure and fatal aim;

Her tongue more false, each word is said

Your bosom to inflame;

Her heart most false, 'tis there that she Has planned your ruin, Man :

If you are weak, avoid her, flee,—

LOVE'S LESSON LEARNT.

OH! I'll be no desponding swain,
A sighing like a bellows!

True love can never give us pain-
He's prince of jolly fellows!

I'll never woo an icy maid,

Cold as a winter's morn,

Who thinks devotion well repaid

With freezing pride and scorn.

I'll choose a smiling girl, whose breast

Though white is not of snow;

Whose hand won't melt when softly prestWhose heart with love can glow.

And if my charmer prove unkind,

And scorn my love, why let her; I warrant, one full soon I'll find,

As fair, who'll like me better!

IN VINO VERITAS!

A HEALTH!

a health! to rosy

Bacchus !

Jolly boys, your glasses fill!

Grim care had better not attack us,

Whilst we brimming bumpers swill!

Each drop that down our windpipe trickles Some sorrow helps to drown,

The seat of mirth and laughter tickles,

And washes out a frown.

And if for truth ye seek, believe
You'll find it in the glass-

The Son of Jove can ne'er deceive,

In vino veritas!

Believe not that poor Truth lies drowned,

Deep buried in a well,

As soon might charity be found

In miser's breast to dwell!

Tale told by some teetotal ass,

From wat❜ry brain distilled;

Truth sparkles in a brimming glass,
With grape juice fairly filled!

Come, seek her then with all your might!
Boys, round the bottle pass;

You'll find the jolly Roman right,

In vino veritas!