Wise men applaud us when we eat the eaters, As the devil laughs when keen folks cheat the cheaters.'

The Sea Voyage. CONTENTIONS fierce,

Ardent, and dire, spring from no petty cause.
Albion.

HE came amongst them like a new-raised spirit,
To speak of dreadful judgments that impend,
And of the wrath to come.
The Reformer.

AND some for safety took the dreadful leap; Some for the voice of Heaven seemed calling on them;

Some for advancement, or for lucre's sake -
I leaped in frolic.

The Dream.

From Saint Ronan's Well

QUIS novus hic hospes ?
Dido apud Virgilium.

CH'M-MAID!-The Gen'man in the front parlor!
Boots's free Translation of the Æneid.

THERE must be government in all society Bees have their Queen, and stag herds have their leader;

Rome had her Consuls, Athens had her Archons, And we, sir, have our Managing Committee. The Album of Saint Ronan's.

COME, let me have thy counsel, for I need it; Thou art of those, who better help their friends With sage advice, than usurers with gold,

Or brawlers with their swords - I'll trust to thee,

For I ask only from thee words, not deeds.
The Devil hath met his Match.

him,

1

You talk of Gayety and Innocence !
The moment when the fatal fruit was eaten,
They parted ne'er to meet again; and Malice
Has ever since been playmate to light Gayety
From the first moment when the smiling in-
fant

Destroys the flower or butterfly he toys with,
To the last chuckle of the dying miser,
Who on his death-bed laughs his last to hear
His wealthy neighbor has become a bankrupt.
Old Play.

'Tis not her sense - for sure, in that
There's nothing more than common;
And all her wit is only chat,
Like any other woman.

Song.

WERE every hair upon his head a life,
And every life were to be supplicated
By numbers equal to those hairs quadrupled,
Life after life should out like waning stars
Before the daybreak or as festive lamps,
Which have lent lustre to the midnight revel,
Each after each are quenched when guests
depart.
Old Play.

MUST we then sheath our still victorious sword;
Turn back our forward step, which ever trode
O'er foemen's necks the onward path of glory;
Unclasp the mail, which with a solemn vow
In God's own house we hung upon our shoul-
ders;

That vow, as unaccomplished as the promise Which village nurses make to still their children,

And after think no more of?

The Crusade, a Tragedy.

WHEN beauty leads the lion in her toils,
Such are her charms he dare not raise his mane,
Far less expand the terror of his fangs;
So great Alcides made his club a distaff,
And spun to please fair Omphale.

Anonymous.

But Duty guides not that way -see her stand, With wand entwined with amaranth, near yon cliffs.

Oft where she leads thy blood must mark thy footsteps,

Oft where she leads thy head must bear the storm,

And thy shrunk form endure heat, cold, and hunger;

But she will guide thee up to noble heights, Which he who gains seems native of the sky. While earthly things lie stretched beneath his

feet,

Diminished, shrunk, and valueless

Anonymous.