A PETITION TO TIME.

TOUCH us gently, Time!

Let us glide adown thy stream
Gently -as we sometimes glide
Through a quiet dream.

Humble voyagers are we,

Husband, wife, and children three

(One is lost-an angel fled

To the azure overhead!)

Touch us gently, Time!

We've not proud nor soaring wings:

Our ambition, our content,
Lies in simple things.

Humble voyagers are we,
O'er life's dim, unsounded sea,
Seeking only some calm clime;-
Touch us gently, gentle Time!

Barry Cornwall.

MAIDENHOOD.

MAIDEN, with the meek, brown eyes, In whose orbs a shadow lies,

Like the dusk in evening skies ;

Thou whose locks outshine the sun,
Golden tresses, wreathed in one,
As the braided streamlets run; —

Standing, with reluctant feet, Where the brook and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet;

Gazing, with a timid glance,
On the brooklet's swift advance,
On the river's broad expanse.

Deep and still, that gliding stream
Beautiful to thee must seem,
As the river of a dream.

Then why pause with indecision,
When bright angels in thy vision
Beckon thee to fields Elysian?

Seest thou shadows sailing by,
As the dove, with startled eye,
Sees the falcon's shadow fly?

Hear'st thou voices on the shore,
That our ears perceive no more,
Deafened by the cataract's roar?

O, thou child of many prayers,

Life hath quicksands, - life hath snares!
Care and age come unawares.

Like the swell of some sweet tune,
Morning rises into noon,
May glides onward into June.

Childhood is the bough, where slumbered
Birds and blossoms many-numbered ;-
Age that bough with snows encumbered.

Gather, then, each flower that grows
When the young heart overflows,
To embalm that tent of snows.

Bear a lily in thy hand;

Gates of brass cannot withstand
One touch of that magic wand.

Bear through sorrow, wrong, and ruth,
In thy heart the dew of youth,
On thy lips the smile of truth.

O, that dew, like balm, shall steal
Into wounds that cannot heal,
Even as sleep our eyes doth seal, —

And that smile, like sunshine, dart
Into many a sunless heart,

For a smile of God thou art.

Henry W. Longfellow.

THE KISS.

WHEN I asked her, " Wilt thou kiss me?" Nought she said, but hung her cheek so, As if she were thinking, thinking, Whether she might do 't or no.

Then her fair, kind face upturning,
One sweet touch I here did win,
As if she were thinking, thinking,
Such small graces are no sin.

She therein lost no composure,
Nor ashamed did she seem;
Truly chaste may grant such favor,
And therein lose no esteem.

W. C. Roscoe.

CRABBED AGE AND YOUTH.

CRABBED Age and Youth
Cannot live together:
Youth is full of pleasance,
Age is full of care;
Youth like summer morn,
Age like winter weather;
Youth like Summer brave,
Age like winter bare.

Youth is full of sport,

Age's breath is short;

Youth is nimble, Age is lame;

Youth is hot and bold,

Age is weak and cold;

Youth is wild, and Age is tame.

Age, I do abhor thee,

Youth, I do adore thee;

O, my love, my love is young!

Age, I do defy thee;

O, sweet shepherd, hie thee,

For methinks thou stay'st too long.

Shakspeare.