THE FAIRY AND THE ROSE.

The blushes of spring did creation adorn,
And the lark sang her lay 'mid the freshness of

morn;

When, lo! in a valley a Rose sweetly bloom'd, Whose fragrance the dawn's rising breezes perfumed.

A frolicksome Fairy was tripping that way,
And gazed with delight on its beauteous array;
A wish she express'd, that the flower should be torn
From the stalk where it blossom'd, her breast to
adorn.

While her hand stretching forward, to pluck it she aim'd,

"Oh! forbear, gentle Fairy," the flow'ret exclaim'd; "For if you are just, you will surely confess, That the stalk which brought forth hath a right

to possess.

With what pangs of reluctance, being pluck'd, I should leave her!

And, oh! could I sigh, my last sigh would I give

her;

The tears which the morning has dropp'd on my

head,

O'er her leaves, at our parting, with anguish I'd shed.

Display your compassion: Oh! here let me stay,
To bloom on her headtill my time of decay;
And when all my beauties with summer are fled,
On her roots may my blossoms rest wither'd and
dead!

Soon, soon will the time of my fading arrive;
But fain would affection the short date survive:
And who can to nature this fond claim deny,

A wish e'en in death near our loved ones to lie."

MISCELLANEOUS.

THE ROTTEN STICK.

My friend, beware! don't lean thereon;

A rotten stick's no stay :

It will not break, if left alone;
But, if you lean, it may.

And, while I speak, a thought doth strike

My mind, which seems to say,

How much a rotten stick is like
The friendships of the day.

Be cautious how you trust a friend,
For friendship's weak at best;

If all were true who do pretend,
How would the world be blest!

For many look like friends indeed:
All's well, while left alone;

But when you come their help to need,
Behold, their friendship's gone!

There's a sure way to shun this ill
On no one to depend;

To all the world maintain good will:

But make yourself your friend.