Poetry
... -Vatctrg. LIFE. LIrF hath its sunshine; but the ray Which dashes on its stormy wave Is but the beacon of decay- A meteor glimmering o'er the grave; And though its dawning hour is bright With fancy's gayest colouring, Yet o'er this cloud-encumbered night Dark Ruin flaps her raven wilg. Life hath its flowers; and what are they? The buds of early love and truth, Which spring and wither in a day- ...