But, tho' 'twad truly glad my een
To see its bright an' cheerfu' sheen,

My purse's hollow sides between,

Ise shun it in the letter!

I wad na see the new-born thought
Laid on the sheet, sae stiff an' straught,
As if 'twere dead, an' cauld; an' brought
Before me for interment.

I like the gracefu', yieldin' nib,
To gang sae careless an' sae glib,
An' shoot my fancies, like a squib,
Just while they're in the ferment!

An', whiles (ye've, aiblins, felt the pain), I wait upon the tardy brain

For something I can ne'er obtain,

An' foundered a' thegither;

I like, if I can do nae mair,
To hae the quill to scrape an' pare,
An' find the faut o' dullness there,

In honest Goosie's feather.

For nature's laws maun be obeyed,

An' this is ane she strictly laid

On ilka saul she ever made,

Down frae our earliest mither:

"Be sel' your first an' greatest care, Frae a' reproach the darlin' spare;

An' ony blame, that she should bear, Pit off upon anither!"

Had nature ta'en a second thought,
A better precept she had taught;
An' guid instead o' evil wrought
By those the power possessin'!
For, sel' had been pit out o' sight,
The love o' ithers brought to light:

In short, the wrang had a' been right,

An' man to man a blessin'!

H. F. GOULD.

OLD FRIENDS TOGETHER.

OH! time is sweet, when roses meet,
With Spring's sweet breath around them;
And sweet the cost, when hearts are lost,
If those we love have found them.
And sweet the mind, that still can find

A star in darkest weather;

But nought can be so sweet to see

As old friends met together!

Those days of old, when youth was bold, And Time stole wings to speed it;

And youth ne'er knew how fast Time flew, Or knowing, did not heed it!

Though grey each brow that meets us now,

For age brings wintry weather;

Yet, nought can be so sweet to see

As old friends met together!

The few long known, whom years have shown

With hearts that friendship blesses;

A hand to cheer, perchance, a tear,

To soothe a friend's distresses;

Who helped and tried, still side by side,
A friend to face hard weather;

Oh, thus may we yet joy to see
And meet old friends together!

C. SWAIN.

THE HIDDEN NAME.

SHE loved, but her bosom had buried the dart;
And there, while she strove to conceal it,

Its point had engraven his Name on her heart

Too deep for her lips to reveal it.

She wept,

but the world knew it not; for her eye

Of joy's playful sunlight would borrow

A few dazzling beams, when another was by,

To drink up the dew-drops of sorrow.

She grieved, and in secret the sigh would release,

That long in her breast had been stifled:

She pined, and in solitude mourned for the peace Whereof her young heart had been rifled.

She languished, she faded, she silently fell!

And now in the tomb she is lying;

While none that looked on could the malady tell,

The flower in its beauty was dying!