Yours is a pleasure that shall never vanish,
Provided that you smoke the best of Spanish:
Those are my fav'rites, and their incense mine;
To meaner fays belongs the black long-nine.
Puff forth your clouds, (with that we puff'd amain,)
Sweet is their fragrance, (then we puff'd again.)
How have I hung, with most intense delight,
Over your heads when you have smok'd by night,
And gratefully imparted all my powers
To bless and consecrate those happy hours;
Live on," she said. I started, and awoke,
And with my dream she vanish'd into smoke.

SPIRIT OF MAN.

[Religious Intelligencer.]

"Who knoweth the spirit of man that goeth upward ?”

ECCLE. III. 21

SAY'ST thou, that when this light has fled,
The spring of mental life is dead?

Say'st thou, that, when this cheek is pale,
The spirit's ardent glow shall fail?
Say'st thou, the soul returns to clay,
When these poor pulses cease to play?

Then let us mourn, if hope expires
When this frail lamp resigns its fires;
If man, so fashion'd like a God,
Must never burst the prisoning sod,
With maniac sorrow let us rave,
And, shrinking, rend his marble grave.

Dash then away the fruitless tear,
And rush in Pleasure's mad career;
To mirth devote this niggard span
This little dateless life of man ;
Mock self-control, grave wisdom spurn,
And, heedless, seek the destin'd urn.

Ah, sceptic! why wilt thou essay
To rend the balm of life away?
To plant with goads the path of toil,

To strew with thorns a barren soil,

To shroud with cold and rayless gloom,

Our weary journey to the tomb?

Think'st thou the Power that spread the skies,

So just, beneficent, and wise,

Hath man's unbounded powers bestow'd,
Merely for earth's fallacious good?

Oh, pause! a Spirit answers, No,
For boundless joy, or boundless wo.
Look up, and let thy doubtful eye
Sparkle at immortality;

Rend from thy soul its abject chain,
Thy "Maker in thy mind retain,"
And bid it love that hope sublime,

Which soars o'er mists and wrecks of time.

MOI-MEME.

[Republican Sentinel. New-York.]

THOUGH health, and fortune, too, are gone, And faithless friends have fled,

I still possess a tender one,

Who shares my humble shed.

In every sad reverse I 've known,
This friend was ever near,
Felt all my sorrows, as his own,
And answer'd tear for tear.

When but a boy, he ne'er would let
My rights insulted be,
And if nice dainties he could get,
Would give them all to me.

I never had a friend like him,
He all my frailties hid;
Would gratify each childish whim,
Nor e'en my errors chid.

This was his failing, he had been

More merciful to me,

Had he the first desire to sin,

Check'd with severity.

Our love increas'd with length of years,
Nor was it but in name ;

Our morals, manners, hopes, and fears,
Had ever been the same.

When fortune smil'd, he was my all,
Though others sought my heart;
And, now, when they deride my fall,
Seeks comfort to impart.

Beside my couch, from morn to eve,
His prayers for me arise-
Nor can repose till I receive
The rest the wretched flies.

But with my life, his cares shall end,

And all his love for me;

O'er my pale corpse he ne'er shall bend,
In speechless agony.

Nor e'er upon my grave will strew,
The earliest flow'rs of spring-
Nor water it with that kind dew,
Which friendship loves to bring.

For Heaven's decreed, that when I die,
He shall no longer live;

The power that bids my sorrows fly,
Repose to him will give.

One shroud, one coffin, and one grave,
To shield us shall be sent-

And the rank weeds that o'er us wave,
Our only monument.

This friend of friends, dear as my life,
Dearer than worthless pelf;

Is neither parent, child, nor wife,
But is, in brief—MYSELF.

ALLY CROKER:

TENDERNESS OF HEART.

[New-England Galaxy.]

THERE is a little fragile flower
That, low depending on its stem,
Is scarcely known beyond the bower,
Where, all unconscious of its power,
It ever glows in dewy gem.

It once arose in tow'ring pride,
And courted every passing gale,
Exulting threw its odours wide,
Alluring to its gaudy side

The dwellers of its native vale.

But while it show'd its tinsel glare,
At early dawn, or pensive even,

Not thinking that the world could bear
Another flower so sweet and fair--

'Twas wither'd by the "Breath of Heaven."

Now, from its root this flow'ret grows,
But, trembling at the gentlest breeze,
It scarce around a fragrance throws,
Unlike the lily, or the rose,

With not a tint to charm, or please.

Yet when by tempests, gath'ring gloom,
Its leaflets from its stalk are riven,
O! then it shows a varied bloom,
And breathes abroad a rich perfume-

"Tis nourish'd by the "Breath of Heaven."
For then it feels, with grateful glow,
The same Almighty Power,
That sunk its earlier beauties low,-
But suffer'd from its root to grow
A humbler, sweeter flower.

And oft it droops its lowly head,

And breathes a fragrance to the sky,
When those its former beauties led
To gaze upon its tints of red,
Pass now neglectful by.

But what's this renovated flower,

That heavenward can its sweets impart?
And yet confin'd in lonely bower,

Is sweetest in the darkest hour?

Oh! it is TENDERNESS OF HEART.

MICHAEL BURN.

[Independent Statesman. Portland.]

Z.

AMONG the numerous islands in Casco Bay, there are few, indeed, which, at present, contain more than a single dwelling; yet a century ago the traveller would have been cheered with the mingled hum of business and of pleasure; and could have rested beneath many a hospitable roof, the ruins of which are now scarcely visible. They were formerly inhabited by fishermen, but, on account of the frequent attacks of Indians, these were abandoned; and, being of slight materials, soon sunk into decay. Near one of these ruins, and not far from Diamond Cove, is the grave of MICHAEL BURN. currence, while he resided there, should rescue his name from oblivion.

An oc

One evening, as he sat at the door of his hut, listening to the waves, which broke on the rocks that surrounded him, his dog, who was lying at his feet, suddenly sprang up, and, darting towards a projecting cliff, plunged into the water. The fisherman, presuming from his earnest manner that something had attracted his atten

tion, hastened to the spot, from which his animal had leaped, but the night was too dark to discover either the dog or the object of his pursuit, and the murmur of the waves prevented ascertaining even his direction. Having for some time awaited his return in vain, and supposing at last he was in the fruitless chase of some seals, which frequently made their appearance, he retired. Scarcely, however, had he sought his pillow, when the well-known bark and scratching at the door announced not only his return, but anxiety for his master's presence. He opened the door; the dog whined, pulled him gently as if wishing him to follow, and suddenly left him.

Having lighted his lantern he left the hut, the dog, by his barking, directing the path; but, on approaching the shore, judge his surprise to find by his faithful animal a human being, to all appearance a corpse. It was evident, that the dog had just drawn him from the water, but there were no marks of violence on his person. He opened his waistcoat; the body was yet warm ; and, filled with the hope of restoring animation, he bore it to his hut. In a short time the stranger gave signs of returning life, and, by the next morning, he was able to converse with his generous preserver.

"You probably recollect," said the stranger, " of seeing yesterday a vessel near your harbor. In that vessel it was my misfortune to have been a passenger; heaven grant that the loved being I have left there has not fallen a victim to perfidy and ingratitude. I am a native of America, but have resided in France, where I acquired a considerable fortune. Desirous of spending my last days in the land of my fathers, I converted my property into specie, and, with a young and adored wife, embarked in this vessel. The master and crew I loaded with presents, but this only served to increase their rapacity. I had no fears either for my life or property. Last night their diabolical plans for the destruction of both were put into execution. I was alone on the quarter deck when, a deep groan causing me to turn, I beheld one of the passengers struck down with an axe as he was approaching to join me. The ruffians, with hor