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Trims with care the artful curl
And, with riband neat arrayed,
Dons her hat of shining straw, Proud to be the gayest maid
That her village ever saw.
But, alas! a storm comes on,
Hat and happiness are gone,
Where seeks manhood? where seeks age?
Strive to build themselves a name.
Some in wealth the shade pursue,
Farther still the phantom flies.
Know, ye seekers, 't is alone
Pointing ever to His throne,
Though this earth has show of cheer,
But she dwells alone in Heaven.
C. W. T.
And I said, Oh that I had wings like a dove! for then would I fly away, and be at rest.
PSALM LV. 56.
WOULD that I were a dove! with silvery wing,
From this cold earth in joyous flight to spring,
Upborne with swiftest pinions on my way,
Then, as the traveller o'er some desert spot, Fatigued and parched beneath the noonday beams, At eve, attain some cool sequestered grot,
And find refreshing shade and limpid streams; There would my wearied breast enjoy repose, And bliss more pure than all the world bestows. D. F. M.
A WORD TO A NEWLY MARRIED LADY.
ALLOW me to offer you my congratulations on the relative change which has taken place in your social condition, and to assure you, that my prayer to God for you is, that you may live through a long life in the uninterrupted enjoyment of conjugal and domestic happiness. I certainly do not wish to intrude any remarks that may have a tendency to depress your feelings; but, as it is possible that you may anticipate a higher degree of felicity than has ever been enjoyed since the expulsion of the first wedded pair from the Eden of innocence and of joy, you will permit me to suggest to you the propriety of underrating your expectations.
The state into which you have entered is unquestionably more favourable to personal happiness