And if to that phantom you'll be kind,
So fondly around you he 'll hover,
You'll hardly, my dear, any difference find
"Twixt him and a true living lover.

Down at your feet, in the pale moonlight, He'll kneel, with a warmth of devotionAn ardor, of which such an innocent sprite You'd scarcely believe had a notion.

What other thoughts and events may arise, As in destiny's book I've not seen them, Must only be left to the stars and your eyes

To settle, ere morning, between them.

NATIONAL AIRS.

"A TEMPLE to Friendship," said Laura, enchanted,
I'll build in this garden, the thought is divine!"
Her temple was built, and she now only wanted
An image of Friendship to place on the shrine.
She flew to a sculptor, who set down before her
A Friendship, the fairest his art could invent;
But so cold and so dull, that the youthful adorer
Saw plainly this was not the idol she meant.

"Oh' ever," she cried, "could I think of enshrining An image, whose looks are so joyless and dim;But yon little god, upon roses reclining,

We'll make, if you please, Sir, a Friendship of him So the bargain was struck; with the little god laden She joyfully flew to her shrine in the grove: "Farewell," said the sculptor, "you 're not the first maiden

Who came but for Friendship and took away Love."

29*