Ambition bold, Pride stern and cold, Are subjects, Mammon, for thy chain; As thought can be, And flings thy shackles back again. THE FALLING TIDE UPON THE BEACH. BY HENRY PANTON. THE falling tide upon the beach In murmurs chides my long delay; The whispering wind in fancy speaks, And bids me on my course away. And yet I linger near thine eyes, As one on whom there hangs a spell; I strive in vain-my tongue denies The tones that form that word, "Farewell." We'll meet no more. In after years, May call emotions to the heart That long in it have ceased to dwell, And may again the scene impart Where last I whispered, Fare-thee well. For me, the heart that once was thine Can bring the sadness of this hour. I linger still; but 'tis in vain Nought can those careless hours restore; Procrastination adds but pain, And only heats the tear-drop more. Come, while my eyes are filled with thee, Ere tears thy image shall dispel ; Bright may thy future prospects be; One kiss-forever Fare-thee-well. "A THING OF BEAUTY IS A JOY FOREVER." BY L. L. DAPONTE. FAREWELL! how oft that word is said All speechless will I see thee part, Nor think if cheerless I pursue The path that thou hast marked with wo, That joy itself can never know- As in thy pride of youthful years! When life and care have dimmed thine eye, My soul shall be refined at last To fit companionship with thine! But thou-where'er thy choice may lead, The rapture of that love be his, MOURNEST THOU. BY E. A. STANSBURY. MOURN'ST thou o'er those hours departed Dost thou weep, lone child of sorrow, Which again shall bid them shine? Is there nought thy cares can lighten Ay! there is a home in Heaven, Where thy heart shall grieve no more- Weep not then, sweet child of sorrow, Which shall bid them brighter shine' THE BIRTH OF PRINTING. BY HORACE GREELY. LONG slumbered the world in the darkness of error, A flash like the lightning's unsealed every eye, |