FRIENDSHIP! mysterious cement of the soul! Oft have I proved the labors of thy love, BLAIR. What though on Love's altar the flame that is glowing Is brighter? yet Friendship's is steadier far! One wavers and turns with each breeze that is blowing, And is but a meteor - the other 's a star! In youth Love's light Burns warm and bright, But dies ere the winter of age be past; Burns ever the same, And glows but the brighter, the nearer its last! O, let my friendship in the wreath, Though but a bud among the flowers, Its sweetest fragrance round thee breathe 'Twill serve to soothe thy weary hours. MRS. WELBY. JASMINE. Jasminum. LANGUAGE AMIABILITY. THE blessings of her quiet life Fell on us like the dew; And good thoughts, where her footstep pressed, Sweet promptings unto kindest deeds Were in her very look ; We read her face as one who reads The pleasure of a blessed hymn The breathing of an inward psalm, A canticle of love. WHITTIER. And we talked-O, how we talked! her voice, so cadenced in the talking, Made another singing — of the soul! a music without bars While the leafy sounds of woodlands, humming round where we were walking, Brought interposition worthy-sweet-as skies about the stars, And she spake such good thoughts natural, as if she al ways thought them. MISS BARRETT. JAPONICA. Japonica Alba. LANGUAGE EXCELLENCE. VIEW them near At home, where all their worth and power is placed ; Faithful in love, in honor stern and chaste, What, my soul, was thy errand here? Or heaping up dust from year to year? 66 Nay, none of these!" Speak, soul, aright, in His holy sight Whose eye looks still And steadily on thee through the night: And yet its glory far exceeds That base and sensual life which leads To want and shame. HALLECK. WHITTIER. LONGFELLOW. JONQUIL. Narcissus Jonquilla. LANGUAGE IS MY AFFECTION RETURNED? O LADY, there be many things But join two altars into one. O. W. HOLMES. And canst thou not accord thy heart In unison with mine? Whose language thou alone hast heard RUFUS DAWES. 'Twas then the blush suffused her cheek, Which told what words could never speak; The answer's written deeply now On this warm cheek and glowing brow. And had he not long read L. M. DAVIDSON. The heart's hushed secret, in the soft dark eye L. E. LANDON. THE BROKEN HEART. "I never heard Of any true affection, but 'twas nipped The leaves of the spring's sweetest book, the rose." Middleton. Ir is a common practice with those who have outlived the susceptibility of early feeling, or have been brought up in the gay heartlessness of dissipated life, to laugh at all love stories, and to treat the tales of romantic passion as mere fictions of novelists and poets. My observations on human nature have induced me to think otherwise. They have convinced me that however the surface of character may be chilled and frozen by the cares of the world, or cultivated into mere smiles by the arts of society, still there are dormant fires lurking in the depths of the coldest bosom, which, when once enkindled, become impetuous, and are sometimes desolating in their effects. Indeed, I am a true believer in the blind deity, and go to the full extent of his doctrines. Shall I confess it?I believe in broken hearts, and the possibility of dying of disappointed love. I do not, however, consider it a malady often fatal to my own sex; but I firmly believe that it withers down many a lovely woman into an early grave. Man is the creature of interest and ambition. His nature leads him forth into the struggle and |