HORACE SMITH.

1779-1849.

[AUTHOR of several novels and verses. In connection with his brother James he wrote clever parodies and criticisms in the Picnic, the London Review, and the Monthly Mirror. In the last appeared those imitations from his own and his brother's hand which were published in 1813 as The Rejected Addresses, one of the most successful and popular works that has ever appeared. Besides these he wrote Brambletye House, in imitation of Scott's historical novels; also, Tor Hill, Walter Colyton, The Moneyed Man, The Merchant, and several others. His best performance is the Address to the Mummy, some parts of which exhibit the finest sensibility and an exquisite poetic taste.]

REV. GEORGE CROLY.

1780-1860.

CUPID CARRYING PROVISIONS.

THERE was once a gentle time
When the world was in its prime;
And every day was holiday,
And every month was lovely May.
Cupid then had but to go
With his purple wings and bow;
And in blossomed vale and grove
Every shepherd knelt to love.

Then a rosy, dimpled cheek,
And a blue eye, fond and meek;
And a ringlet-wreathen brow,
Like hyacinths on a bed of snow;
And a low voice, silver sweet,
From a lip without deceit;
Only those the hearts could move
Of the simple swains to love.

But that time is gone and past,
Can the summer always last?
And the swains are wiser grown,
And the heart is turned to stone,
And the maiden's rose may wither,
Cupid's fled, no man knows whither.
But another Cupid's come,
With a brow of care and gloom:
Fixed upon the earthly mould,
Thinking of the sullen gold;
In his hand the bow no more,

EBENEZER ELLIOTT.

1781-1849.

[BORN 17th of March, 1781, at the New Foundry, Masbro', near Rotherham, Yorkshire; wrote in his seventeenth year The Vernal Walk; worked in his father's foundry until 1804; made trials of business in Sheffield, of which the first failed; published his first volume of verse, 1823: Village Patriarch, 1829; Corn Law Rhymer, 1831; retired from business, 1841; died 1st of December 1849.]

CHILD, is thy father dead?
Father is gone!

Why did they tax his bread?

God's will be done!

SONG.

Mother has sold her bed:
Better to die than wed!

Where shall she lay her head?
Home we have none!