... Iortru. THE DEAD WEILINGTON. DEAD ?-speak the word beneath the breath- Some truths should not be told aloud: And yet we know not here why death Looks doubly awful in its shroud: We do not know-we cannot feel This fact of death in nerves of steel. Dead ...

... secure, in downward gazing, To find one theme his heart for ever praising- The crystal cup a throne, and she the queen I speak. I grew about him, ever dearer; The water rose to meet me, ever nearer; The water passed one day this curb of stonc. Was it ...

... ramparts, Of wooden wails no more; No more of billowvy bwalwarks, Piled round our island shore; mo More or martial prowess, We speak, in braggart phrase, Of future triumphs auguring From those of former days. True, the old heirlooms still are ours, The stubborn ...

... cye; Bv t li el cdhood's gushing tears- y the grjiefs of :ftcr years- ?? the anguish tholl dost hlnow- AdId not to ?? woe. Speak not harslily-mnucth of sin l)'elletlI cxery heart within In its closely covered cells MIlanle a wrtyvard passion dwells By ...

... FASFHIONS FOR APRIL. Ir is time to commence speaking of Spring toilettes, and yet, at this half-season of the year, it is always difficult to give any very decided* details I (f one thing we may speak positively-of the short costume being as much, or ...

... Albert I she'll think of thee. 'Twas she who wreathed those drooping flowers And placed them o'er thy bier, And every spot that speaks of thee Calls forth the bitter tear. Now no more round her sinking form Thy arms of love are thrown, But she is left to struggle ...

... left His throne To show the Father's love. Up above and down below Softly the echoes come and go. And the dear old pastor speaks again ,God's message to the earth, As angels told the shepherd throng Of Christ the Saviour's birth- Of the battle fought ...

... The cypress that darlly shades the grave, The sorrow that mourns its bitter lot; And faith that a thousand ills can have, Speaks in thy blue leave-Forget-me-not. Then gather a wreath from the garden bowevrs, And tell the wish of the heart in flowers. ...

... By fitful sunshine half caressed, Their essence they evolved the while, Like thoughts by looks ecpressed! Their presence speaks their worth, although They look not up with proud pretence; Ylt fragrance on the soul they throw As sweet as on the sense ...

... repose! Lie, weary arms, crossed meekly on my breast- Crossed meekly for a prayer in that dread hour, For now I strive to speak, and lack the power- Strengtl; leaves me, anid I draw near to my rest. Lie crossed upon my breast. Sleep, weary soul! lo thou ...

... stirred, And ties, that years could not have riven, Are scattered to the winds of Heaven; A glance that looks what words ivould speak, Will speed the pulse and blanche the check; And thoughts, nor looked, nor yet exprest, Create a chaos in the breast. A smile ...

... EVENING. In the evening of the day When thy step is slow and weak When thy locks are silver grey, And thy tongue must feebly speak; When thine eyes can scarce discern Faces most familiar dear, And thy deaf ears vainly turn, Where the song resoundeth clear; ...