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So we say-Fiancée
Now should write her name Aimée.

In fancy's ear the chime bells ring :
Cadences of joy they bring,
Telling all the country round
Of the treasure thou hast found.

Amy always loved of all,

To the Altar joy bells call.
Worthy-art thou friend of mine
Of a heart so purely thine.

Love the rhymer for his rhyme;
Love each other through all time;

And remember from this day
Ever she must be Aimée.


A last adieu ! no thought of you

Can make his heart beat high ; No more thy silvery Siren tones

The founts of sorrow dry:
When hope was strong, he loved thee long

To grasp but idle dreams
In wasted hours, where myrtle flowers

Fell fast by whimpling streams.

There came a day, he kissed thy brow

In parting's bitter pain :Why Hero since so oft hast thou

Held up the torch again ? Only to greet him at thy feet,

With lips compressed and cold; And hear without one pitying glance

The old old tale re-told.

Time reads thy fate-now, 'tis too late,

When Winter's noon is nigh,
To look for flowers whose perfume showers

Made sweet fair Summer's sigh,
Red Autumn's sheaves, the flying leaves,

The ripened fruits are gone,
And the bleak breeze, o'er shrunken trees,

Moans desolate and forlorn.


Ayn Hali, the Prophet's eyes

Promise a future none may know. Ayn Hali, O prophet eyes !

Of beauty for thee these verses flow!

Ayn Hali, the Prophet's eyes

Shine with the light of a hopeful bliss. Ayn Hali, thy prophet eyes

Flash o'er a mouth that invites to kiss.

Ayu Hali, thy prophet eyes

Gave me their love when life was young, Ayn Hali, such prophet eyes

Would win more souls than the Koran's tongue.

Ayn Hali, the Prophet's eyes

Come in response to an earnest prayer. Ayn Hali, O prophet eyes !

Life withont thee it was hard to bear.

Ayn Hali, the Prophet's eyes

Mitigate sorrow, and grief and pain. Ayn Hali, O prophet eyes!

Look on these dying ones once again !


H. M. B.

Spring and summer, autumn, winter!

Passing breezes changeful blow; Spring soft showers, summer flowers,

Autumn fruits and winter snow. Day and darkness, joy and sorrow,

Come in turns as well we know; Glad to-day and sad to-morrow,

Onward with the rest we go.

Storm and tempest, cloud and sunshine !

Passing breezes changeful blow; Youth's gay hours, manhood's powers,

Laughing come and sighing go. Smiles and frowns in faces round us

Light and shadow transient throw; Never let the dark looks wound us,

As they come so let them go.

Health and sickness hovering near us

Flit alternate to and fro; Sickness droops ; hope comes to cheer us;

Healthier breezes soon may blow! All is change about, above us,

As we wander here below: Constant only hearts that love us,

Till life's fountains cease to flow.

NOTES, &c. NOTES, & o.

PAGE IV.-In the original preface to the Rejected addresses, the authors describe the great difficulty they found in getting their work published, although they asked nothing for the copyright. **Our manuscript" they say " was perused and returned to us by several of the most eminent publishers.” The query here will obtrude itself, was it perused ? and if so, what degree of attention could have been given to it? This was in 1812. Seven years afterwards, when the book had run through sixteen editions, Mr. Murray bought the copyright for £131, and published a twenty-third edition in 1852. Not very long after the first success of the addresses the authors were advised to • collect” some of their imitations of Horace, and eventually sold their interest in the two works to Mr. Miller for one thousand pounds.

The remarks of the brothers James and Horace Smith on these and other contingent circumstances were, no doubt, kindly introduced in the same way, as other eventually successful authors have related the difficulties they at first experienced with their earlier works,-by way of encouraging a Nil desperandum rallying cry among those whose names have not undergone a course of public advertisement; but the writer whose MSS. are many, and whose acquaintances in the publishing world are in an inverse ratio, finds bnt sorry satisfaction in knowing that Pelham was looked upon coldly at his first presentation; and Eöthen went nearly the whole round of the London publishers; and Jane Eyre was declined with thanks until the authoress lost all hope of ever seeing it in print, and to take an example from the musical world, Handel's Israel in Egypt failed entirely when first represented. In the History of Publishers it is amusing to discover that Mrs. Markham is a myth, and a certain well known History of England was at first a failure; and as such was sold by Constable to Mr. Murray who reproduced it with a new title, under which it has achieved its present well deserved popularity.

PAGE VII.—The composer of the music to Galatea solemnly declared to me his perfect conviction, founded on the appearance of the roll of MS. when returned, that the piece had never been tried, and in all probability had remained unopened. The following notice is copied from the The Theatrical and Musical Review, vol. I, No. 13, p. 146, December 24, 1868.“Mr. Curle has caught somewhat of the spirit of the old madrigalian poets. His “ Galatea” is fashioned on the Oriannas, set by Gibbons, Morley, &c., and is a close imitation in humour and stanza. **** Thoroughly effective as Mr. Beale's composition is,-bright, easy and pleasing,-it yet wants the broken subjects and their imitations to render akin to the older school. The change on the words, : Why seeketh she,' is most happy, so again at The sportive girl,' the transition, by contrary motion, from the key of A, three sharps, to G, one sharp, is thoroughly in keeping with the Tudor school; but if Mr. Beale would excel in this style of writing he should carefully look at those gems of his father's. *** As it stands, Galatea' only needs to be heard once to become popular in Glee and Madrigal Societies."

PAGE VII. -New National Anthem. The old one is certainly a curiosity. The music was composed by a Frenchman, Jean Baptiste Lully, and the original words applying to Le Grand Monarque “Grand Dieu sauvez le roi,” were, oddly enough, turned by the English into God save great George our King. There is something ridiculous in this part of the affair, and at the same time a sense of shame accompanies the reflection that when the English people were in want of a hymn to welcome the first of the Guelphs to the throne of Great Britain, they so far humiliated themselves as to plagiarize upon the song first sung at the reception of Louis XIV. at the school of St. Cyr. When the pupils vocalized :

“Grand Dieu, sauvez le roi !
Grand Dieu, voyez le roi !

Vive le roi !
Qui toujours glorieux

Louis victorieux,"
and so on, the last two lines evidently suggesting our

“Send him victorious,

Happy and glorious.".

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