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HOPE AND LOVE.

One day, through fancy's telescope,

Which is my richest treasure,
I saw, dear Susan, Love and Hope

Set out in search of Pleasure :
All mirth and smiles I saw them go;

Each was the other's banker; .
For Hope took up her brother's bow,

And Love, his sister's anchor.

They rambled on o'er vale and hill,

They passed by cot and tower; Through summer's glow and winter's chill,

Through sunshine and through shower : But what did those fond playmates care

For climate, or for weather ?
All scenes to them were bright and fair,

On which they gazed together.

Sometimes they turned aside to bless

Some Muse and her wild numbers, Or breathe a dream of holiness

On Beauty's quiet slumbers ;

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“Fly on,” said Wisdom, with cold sneers;

“I teach my friends to doubt you;" “Come back,” said Age, with bitter tears,

“My heart is cold without you."

When Poverty beset their path,

And threatened to divide them,
They coaxed away the beldame's wrath,

Ere she had breath to chide them,
By vowing all her rags were silk,

And all her bitters, honey,
And showing taste for bread and milk,

And utter scorn of money.

They met stern Danger in their way,

Upon a ruin seated;
Before him kings had quaked that day,

And armies had retreated :
But he was robed in such a cloud,

As Love and Hope came near him, That though he thundered long and loud,

They did not see or hear him.

A gray-beard joined them, Time by name;

And Love was nearly crazy,
To find that he was very lame,

And also very lazy:
Hope, as he listened to her tale,

"Tied wings upon his jacket;
And then they far outran the mail,

And far outsailed the packet.

And so, when they had safely passed

O’er many a land and billow,
Before a grave they stopped at last,

Beneath a weeping willow :
The moon upon the humble mound

Her softest light was flinging ;
And from the thickets all around

Sad nightingales were singing.

“I leave you here,” quoth Father Time,

As hoarse as any raven; And love kneeled down to spell the rhyme

Upon the rude stone graven : But Hope looked onward, calmly brave;

And whispered, “Dearest brother, We're parted on this side the grave,

We'll meet upon the other."

PRIVATE THEATRICALS.

LADY ARABELLA FUSTIAN TO LORD CLARENCE FUSTIAN.

Sweet, when Actors first appear,
The loud collision of applauding gloves !

Your labors, my talented brother,

Are happily over at last;
They tell me, that, somehow or other,

The bill is rejected, or past :
And now you'll be coming, I'm certain,

As fast as your posters can crawl,
To help us to draw up our curtain,

As usual, at Fustian Hall.

Arrangements are nearly completed;

But still we've a lover or two,
Whom Lady Albina entreated,

We'd keep at all hazards for you:
Sir Arthur makes horrible faces,

Lord John is a trifle too tall, -
And yours are the safest embraces

To faint in, at Fustian Hall.

Come, Clarence ;—it's really enchanting

To listen and look at the rout: We're all of us puffing, and panting,

And raving, and running about ; Here Kitty and Adelaide bustle ;

There Andrew and Anthony bawl; Flutes murmur, chains rattle, robes rustle,

In chorus, at Fustian Hall.

By the bye, there are two or three matters,

We want you to bring us from town; The Inca's white plumes from the hatter's,

A nose and a hump for the Clown: We want a few harps for our banquet,

We want a few masks for our ball: And steal from your wise friend Rosanquet

His white wig, for Fustian Hall.

Huncamunca must have a huge saber,

Friar Tuck has forgotten his cowl ; And we're quite at a stand-still with Weber,

For want of a lizard and owl:
And then for our funeral procession,

Pray get us a love of a pall;
Or how shall we make an impression

On feelings, at Fustian Hall ?

And, Clarence, you'll really delight us,

If you'll do your endeavor to bring From the Club a young person to write us

Our prologue, and that sort of thing;

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