Since after my practice with governess Mary,

I must be a Poly-glot Dic-ti-onary,

I'll" found and endow" a benevolent college For practical lectures on labial knowledge. And thus, having finished my lip education, I'll write a sweet treatise on-Deosculation.*

* Vide Johnson or Walker.

THE BRIDE.

(A PORTRAIT.)

"But earthlier happy is the rose distilled,
Than that, which withering on the virgin thorn,
Grows, lives, and dies, in single blessedness."

"E' un compendio di tutte le perfezione."

O SEE you yonder Ladie-three?-the midmost is the bride, How know you her? I know her well, from all the world beside,

From all the vestal world I mean, I know that jewel bright, And a gentler or more lovely bride, neʼer bless'd a bridal night.

I know her by the orange-flower, that Hymen only braids-
I know her by the robe of lace, that is not worn by maids—
I know her by the snowiness of satin shoe and glove,
And I know her by the milk-white rose, that's in her breast
of love.

I know her by the playful smile, that dimples in her cheekI know her by the joy she shows-she shows, but may not

speak:

I know her by that inward laugh, which chuckling seems to say, Of all my young and mirthful life, this is my happiest day.

I know her by that lightsome step, as if she walk'd on air-
I know her by that crimson blush, which virgins do not wear—
I know her by the merry, merry lustre of her eye,
And I know her by that half-supprest, and half-exulting sigh.

O long, my bud of beauty, may that airy step be thine-
And long upon that dimple-cheek may rose and lily twine-
Full long with love may glisten, thy merry, merry eyes,
And never may thy bosom heave-unless with pleasure-sighs.

THE LILY OF LOVE.

(Written in an ORCHARD, in the Under-cliff, Isle of Wight.)

"I oft have heard

That angels condescend to smile on man."

"Cara al mio cuor tu sei

Cio ch'e il sole agli occhi miei."

SWEET daughter of Vectis,* the stranger-one sighs,
To meet you once more near the mulberry grove,
Where first in the light of thy blue sunny eyes,
He bask'd in the beams of enchantment and love.
Then, lady, vouchsafe, ere the stranger-one roam,
A minstrel's devotion and truth to insure,
Ere beckon'd away to his far-distant home,
O smile once again on the lone Troubadour.

In many a land, where the beautiful bloom,
I've knelt at the altar-of dear woman's knee,

*The classic name for the Isle of Wight.

But never confess'd, bear me witness, ye moon,
To priestess of loveliness, like unto thee.

Then, lady, vouchsafe, ere the stranger-one roam,

A minstrel's devotion and truth to insure,
Ere beckoned away to his far-distant home,
O smile once again on the lone Troubadour.

If hallowing beauty be reckon'd a crime,
Then-then am I guilty, most deeply, of this;
And since the sweet sin is in worshipping thine,
Absolve me, dear girl, with a pardoning kiss.
Then, lady, vouchsafe, ere the stranger-one roam,
A minstrel's devotion and truth to insure,
Ere beckon'd away to his far-distant home,

O smile once again on the lone Troubadour.

Soft, soft, be thy slumbers, sweet Lily of Love,
As sighs that commingle when fond bosoms meet,
And, whither thy destiny calls thee to rove,
May thy warm young heart never hopelessly beat.
Then, lady, vouchsafe, ere the stranger-one roam,
A minstrel's devotion and truth to insure,
Ere beckoned away to his far-distant home,
O smile once again on the lone Troubadour