In the first room were seen, above, below, Within the row are men who strove in vain, Strange! that o'er men thus train'd in sorrow's school. Infirm, corrected by misfortunes, old, Their habits settled and their passions cold; Of health, wealth, power, and worldly cares, bereft, There must be one to rule them, to restrain If then control imperious, check severe, His house endow'd, the generous man resign'd THE WIFE TO HER HUSBAND.* "You took me, William, when a girl, unto your home and heart, To bear in all your after-fate a fond and faithful part; And tell me, have I ever tried that duty to forego, Or pined there was not joy for me when you were sunk in woe? For though you're nothing to the world, you're ALL THE WORLD to me. *The above admirable lines, by an American lady, a member of the Society of Friends, appeared a few years ago in the Sunday Times newspaper. We are told that the poem was found in the cottage of a tippling gardener in the United States, whom it had the happy effect of winning from the noisy tap-room to his own domestic hearth. You make a palace of my shed, this rough-hewn bench a throne; There's only one return I crave, I may not need it long, And it may soothe thee when I'm where the wretched feel no wrong: I ask not for less frugal fare, my fare I do not mind; Suffice to make me fair to thee, for more I murmur not, But I would ask some share of hours that you on clubs bestow Of knowledge which you prize so much, might I not something know? If you will read, I'll sit and work; then think when you're away ; HAMILTON TIGHE. Engoldsby. THE captain is walking his quarter-deck The captain again the letter hath read Which the bum-boat woman had brought from Spithead ; He reads that letter three times a day ; Yet the writing is broad and fair to see, As a skipper may read in his degree; And the seal is as black, and as broad, and as flat, As his own cockade in his own cock'd hat: He reads; and he says, as he walks to and fro,- He pauses now, for the topmen hail "On the larboard quarter a sail!-a sail!" That grim old captain he turns him quick, And bawls through his trumpet for Hairy-faced Dick. "The breeze is blowing-huzza! huzza! - Oh, where will be then young Hamilton Tighe! On the foeman's deck, where a man should be, But the first man on board will be Hamilton Tighe!" Hairy-faced Dick hath a swarthy hue, Between a gingerbread-nut and a Jew; And his pig-tail is long, and bushy, and thick, "The bullets are flying-huzza! huzza! Waves his cutlass high, And Capitaine Crapaud bends low at his knee. Is waiting that grim-looking skipper's command:- From that sinister eye, Hairy-faced Dick at once lets fly, And knocks off the head of young Hamilton Tighe! There's a lady sits lonely in bower and hall, How he sits there and glow'rs, with his head on his knee!" The lady has donn'd her mantle and hood, And the tablet fair shall be hung up on high,-'Orate pro animá Hamilton Tighe !'" Her coach and four Draws up to the door, With her groom, and her footman, and half a score more ;— The lady steps into her coach alone, And they hear her sigh, and they hear her groan; They close the door, and they turn the pin, But there's one rides in there that never stepp'd in ! All the way there, and all the way back, The harness strains, and the coach-springs crack, Till the coachman thinks he is driving Old Nick; But the mealy-faced boy still whispers with dread, There's an old yellow admiral living at Bath, And his very queer eyes have such very queer leers, That old yellow admiral goes to the Rooms, And he plays long whist, but he frets and he fumes; And the Jack of Clubs does nothing but frown; And the kings, and the aces, and all the best trumps, Get into the hands of other old frumps; While close to his partner a man he sees Counting his tricks, with his head on his knees. In Ratcliffe Highway there's an old marine store, And musty phials, and fusty rags; And a lusty old woman called Thirsty Nan, And his great thick pig-tail is withered and gone; That admiral, lady, and hairy-faced man, May say what they please, and may do what they can; But one thing seems remarkably clear,- SCENE FROM THE WIFE:-A TALE OF MANTUA. James Sheridan Knowles. LORENZO, an Advocate of Rome, and MARIANA. Lorenzo. THAT's right—you are collected and direct In your replies. I dare be sworn your passion Was such a thing, as by its neighbourhood, Made piety and virtue twice as rich As e'er they were before. How grew it? Come, Thou know'st thy heart-look calmly into it, And see how innocent a thing it is Which thou dost fear to show.-I wait your answer; Mariana. As my stature grew, Which rose without my noting it, until Beside what seem'd his death-bed. An avalanche my father rescued him, The sole survivor of a company From beneath Who wandered through our mountains. A long time His life was doubtful, Signor, and he called For help, whence help alone could come, which I, So first our souls did mingle! Lorenzo. I perceive: you mingled souls until you mingled You lov'd at last. Was't not the sequel, maid? [hearts? Mariana. I lov'd, indeed! If I but nurs'd a flower Which to the ground the rain and wind had beaten, What then was he to me, for whom I thought To make a shroud, when, tending on him still Were to affirm what oft his eyes avouch'd, |