Our little gardens, side by side, Each border'd round with London pride Some six feet long, and three feet wide, To us a large estate ! The apple and the damson trees, I see an eye serenely blue, A cheek of girlhood's freshest hue, Sweet sister, thou wert all to me, HEART'S-EASE. BY MRS. SHERIDAN. IN gardens oft a beauteous flower there grows, By vulgar eyes unnoticed and unseen; In sweet serenity it humbly blows, And rears its purple head to deck the green. This flower, as nature's poet sweetly sings, name, Till wanton Cupid poised its roseate wings, With treacherous aim the god his arrow drew, Which she with icy coldness did repel Rebounding thence with feathery speed it flew, Till on this lonely flower, at last, it fell. Heart's-ease no more the wandering shepherċ found; No more the nymphs its snowy form possess; Its white now changed to purple by love 's wound, Heart's-ease no more,-'tis love-in-idleness. TO THE SWEET-BRIER. BY J. G. C. BRAINARD. OUR sweet autumnal western-scented wind The poor girl's pathway; by the poor man's door. Such are the simple folks it dwells among; And humble as the bud, so humble be the song. I love it, for it takes its untouch'd stand You love your flowers and plants, and will you hate The little four-leaved rose that I love best, That freshest will awake, and sweetest go to rest? MOTHER'S DIRGE OVER HER CHILD. BY D. M. MOIR. BRING me flowers all young and sweet, Bring me the rosemary, whose breath Bring cypress from some sunless spot, Oh, what upon this earth doth prove No more my baby shalt thou lie, Thy grave must be thy cradle now; The wild flowers o'er thy breast shall glow, While still my heart, all full of thee, In widow'd solitude shall be. No taint of earth, no thought of sin, Yea! from mine arms thy soul hath flown I thought, when years had roll'd away, But thou hast past! for ever gone, Farewell, my child, the dews shall fall, |