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In secret then till my end draws nigh,
I'll toil for her ; and when I die,
I'll leave behind, as a farewell boon,
To the proud young princess, my whole cocoon,
To be reeled and wove to a shining lace,
And hung in a veil o'er her scornful face !
And when she can calmly draw her breath
Through the very threads that have caused my death;
When she finds, at length, she has nerves so firm
As to wear the shroud of a crawling worm,
May she bear in mind, that she walks with pride
In the winding-sheet where the Silkworm died !"

THE ADVENTURES OF A RAIN DROP.

When I was first aware of existence, I found myself floating in the clouds, among millions of companions. I was weak and languid, and had indeed fainted entirely away, when a breeze from the north was kind enough to fan me, as it swept along toward the equator. The moment my strength was renewed, I felt an irresistible desire to travel. Thousands of neighbours were eager to join me; and our numerous caravan passed rapidly through immense deserts of air, and landed in the garden of Eden.

As it was a cloudy day, and the sun did not appear, I slipped from a rose leaf to the bottom of a superb arum, and went quietly to sleep. When I awoke, the sun was bright in the heavens, and birds were singing, and insects buzzing joyfully. A saucy humming bird was looking down upon me, thinking, no doubt, that he would drink me up; but a nightingale and scarlet lory both chanced to alight near him, and the flower was weighed down, so that I fell to the ground. Immediately I felt myself drawn up, as if very small cords were fastened to me. It was the power of the sun, which forced me higher and higher, till I found myself in the clouds, in the same weak, misty state as before.

Here I foated about, until a cold wind drove me into the Danube. The moment I entered this river, I was pushed forward by such a crowd of water drops, that, before I knew whither I was bound, I found myself at the bottom of the Black Sea. An oyster soon drew me into his shell, where I tumbled over a pearl, large and beautiful enough to grace the snowy neck of Eve. I was well pleased with my situation, and should have remained a long time, had it been in my power ; but an enormous whale came into our vicinity, and the poor oysters were rolled down his throat, with a mighty company of waves. I escaped from my pearl prison, and the next day the great fish threw me from his nostrils, in a cataract of foam. Many were the rivers, seas, and lakes, I visited. Sometimes I rode through the Pacific, on a dolphin's back; and, at others, I slept sweetly under the shade of fan coral,* in the Persian Gulf. One week I was a dew drop on the roses of Cashmere ; and another, I moistened the stinted moss on cold Norwegian rocks.

* Time rolled slowly on, and the world grew more wicked. I lived almost entirely in the clouds, or on the flowers; for mankind could offer no couch fit for the repose of innocence, save the babe's sinless lip. At last, excessive vice demanded punishment. The Almighty sent it in the form of rain ; and in forty

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days the fair earth was overwhelmed. I was per- mitted to remain in the foggy atmosphere ; and when the deluge ceased, I found myself arranged, with a multitude of rain drops, before the blazing pavilion of the sun. His seven coloured rays were separated in passing through us, and reflected on the opposite quarter of the heavens. Thus I had the honour to assist in forming the first rainbow ever seen by man.

THE DECLINE OF LIFE.
Friend after friend departs;

Who hath not lost a friend ?
There is no union here of hearts

That finds not here an end ;
Were this frail world our final rest,
Living or dying none were blest.
Beyond the flight of time,

Beyond the reign of death,
There surely is some blessed clime

Where life is not a breath ;
Nor life's affections, transient fire,
Whose sparks fly upward and expire.
There is a world above,

Where parting is unknown;
A long eternity of love,

Formed for the good alone ;
And faith beholds the dying, here,
Translated to that glorious sphere!
Thus star by star declines,

Till all are passed away;

:

As morning high and higher shines, ...

To pure and perfect day;
Nor sink those stars in empty night,
But hide themselves in heaven's own light.

ROLLA TO THE PERUVIANS.

My brave associates-partners of my toil, my feelings, and my fame !-can Rolla's words add vigour to the virtuous energies which inspire your hearts ?-No!-You have judged as I have, the foulness of the crafty plea by which these bold invaders would delude you. Your generous spirit has compared, as mine has, the motives which, in a war like this, can animate their minds and ours.

They, by a strange frenzy driven, fight for power, for plunder, and extended rule ;-we, for our country, our altars, and our homes. They follow an adventurer whom they fear, and obey a power which they hate :-we serve a monarch whom we love-a God whom we adore. Where'er they move in anger, desolation tracks their progress! Where'er they pause in amity, affliction mourns their friendship. '

They boast they come but to improve our state, enlarge our thoughts, and free us from the yoke of error !-yes :--they will give enlightened freedom to our minds, who are themselves the slaves of passion, avarice, and pride. They offer us their protectionYes, such protection as vultures give to lambs-covering and devouring them! They call on us to barter all the good we have inherited and proved, for the desperate chance of something better which they promise. Be our plain answer this :-The throne we honour is the people's choice-the laws we reverence are our brave fathers' legacy—the faith we follow teaches us to live in bonds of charity with all mankind, and die with hope of bliss beyond the grave. Tell your invaders this, and tell them, too, we seek no change ; and, least of all, such change as they would bring us.

THE BUCKET.

I. How dear to my heart are the scenes of my child

hood! When fond recollection presents them to view; The orchard, the meadow, the deep tangled wild

wood, And every loved spot which my infancy knew; The wide-spreading pond, and the mill that stood by

it,
The bridge, and the rock where the cataract fell;
The cot of my father, the dairy-house nigh it,
And e'en the rude bucket which hung in the well;

The old oaken bucket—the iron-bound bucket-
The moss covered bucket, which hung in the

well.

II.

That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure .

For often at noon, when returned from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure,

The purest and sweetest that nature can yield. How ardent I seized it with hands that were glowing,

And quick to the white pebbled bottom it fell ;.

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