Think of me when far away,
When the night-star sheds its ray!
Think of me when the bright moon gleams,
Over our woodland vales and streams!
Think of me when thy footsteps roam
'Mid the sylvan shades of our native home.

I wander to a distant shore,
To join in the ranks of the brave;
Perchance to return no more,
But find with the stranger a grave!
I care not-so that I die with the free,
If I win but the tears of my country and
thee.

Thy form in my sleep shall appear
As beauteous, as hallowed, and dear
As when in my heart's fondest beat
I beheld thee, and sighed at thy feet:
When I deemed that none breathed who
could match thee in worth,

And thy spirit too pure for the mortals of

earth.

Death's weapons of terror may bound me,
The cohorts of foemen surround me!
The slave, or the coward betray me,
The sword of the despot may slay me!
Still, while I respire the breath of the free,
Till my blood hath gushed forth, I'll be true
to thee.

The spell of thy beauty shall haunt me,
No peril of battle shall daunt me!
With my hand on my bright gleaming sword
I will think thou hast spoken the word:
On! on to the field! with the warrior's cry
Of death or triumphant victory.

Come to me-pride of my heart!
Come to me-daughter of love!
Come to me, ere I depart

'Mid the climes of the stranger to rove: Come, ere my bark glides over the sea, With a kiss, let me sigh farewell to thee.

THE DREAMS OF OUR DEAD.
By H. C. Deakin, Esq.

THE dreams of our dead! the dreams of our dead!

What are the dreams of our mighty dead?
Do they dream of the heavens above,
Or of the earth beneath?

Do they dream of the sun-bright skies,
Of the clouds, or the red-rain'd storms,
Of the one pale star of eve,
That heralds the huntress Queen ?

Do they dream of the solemn night, Of the jewels that deck her throne, Of the day that is locked within Her melancholy arms?

Do they dream of their mother's bowers,
Or dream they of their father's swords,
Of the banners that floated o'er
Death's crimson chivalry?

Do they dream of the waves that roll
Around their father-land,

Of the surge, the surf, the gathering storms
That lash her island shore?

Do they dream of the dark abode, Where changing and chill they lie, Or sweep their spirits scornfully Their shattered shrouds aside?

Oh! they sail on the far free air,
They ride on the star-lit cloud,
And they're haunting their father-land,
With melancholy sighs..

In the whispering winds they're heard,
That hallow the eve's repose,
And they bear the shadows of night
Over the sunless sky!

Their dreams are of the days no more,
Of the banner and tented plain,
Of the battle's triumphant roar,
And songs of victory!

MY MOTHER'S GRAVE.

HOPE ushers in the spring, and breathes

anew

Young life, young vigour, to the drooping heart:

Yet, yet, my mother, when I think on you, Hope quivering flies, and turns affection's dart.

Still as I linger on thy peaceful grave, Watching the evening's close-the stilly dew

I think on Him who has the power to saveSweet angel-mother, then I think on you!

And as the wild grass waves o'er thy cold grave,

Rushes to memory thy silent worth; Just so thou bent, just so stern death would brave,

If still his power could touch thy spot of earth.

And as the light wave still propels the foam, Remembrance of thy virtue checks the tear; My rebel heart would scarcely yet disown, But thy green grave tells who lies mouldering here.

Yet, yet, sweet spirit! still forgive the sigh, That bursting from my heart escapes unseen By those, whose untouched hearts pass coldly by

The child whose sorrow must be ever green. F. W. D. M.

BELOVED NAMOURA! SMILE AGAIN,
BELOVED Namoura! smile again,
Resume thy joyous lay,
And join in pleasure's festive train,
The gayest of the gay!
Repress, sweet love, the rising sigh,
And chase the tear that dims thine eye.

Revive that smile, in happier hours
Thy cheek was wont to wear,
When life's bright path was strewed with
flowers,

And unalloyed by care.
The numbers of thy lyre awake,

And grief's wild transports, love! forsake.

By Henry Brandreth, Jun., Esq.
THEY tell me she's another's,
Has she then forgot her vow?
Yet sits there not her mother's
Soul of truth upon her brow?
And wears she not the heather,
Though all faded, in her hair,
Love's gift when we together,
Light of heart, strayed every where?

Yet if within our bosoms
Love's fond hopes must sleep entombed,
I'll think but of the blossoms
That with springtide promise bloomed.
And I'll forget her beauty-
Would I could her voice and lyre!
I know too well the duty
Of a daughter to her sire.

And when the western billow
Bears my bark athwart the sea,
And she on pleasure's pillow
Sleeps in sweet tranquillity-
My fervent prayer shall ever
Be for her I loved in vain ;
But oh! this bosom never
More with love shall throb again.

AN ITALIAN NIGHT.

"Earth has not any thing to shew more fair." WORDSWORTH.

OH, yes, 'tis sweet, 'tis passing sweet to see The daylight fade in that pure lovely clime, To watch the sunbeam's parting ray, what'

time

The stars are rising o'er the twilight sea, For then the night comes on all silently, With all her host of stars pure streaming

still

O'er mount and wave, lake, bower, and hill. From the far depths of the clear quiet sky There nought disturbs the beauty of the hour,

Save where from far the mimic lightning

plays,

Shedding around a gleam of dazzling power,
As though to mock the fire-fly's fitful rays,
As hovering high on starry wings of light
She seems to give new life to the silence of
the night.

F. S. MULLer.

English fashions.

EVENING DRESS.

A DRESS of rose-coloured crape over satin to correspond. Corsage cut low, plain at the top, but with a slight degree of fulness at the bottom of the waist. It is drawn down a little in the centre of the bosom, so as partially to display a blond lace chemisette. Béret sleeve, surmounted by very full mancherons. The skirt is finished by a flounce of the same material : it is cut round the border in deep scallops, which are bound by a narrow satin rouleau: immediately above them is a rich embroidery in white floize silk, in a lace pattern. The hair is dressed very full at the sides of the face, and quite off the forehead; the hind hair is disposed in a single round bow. A bouquet, composed of a single white rose with buds and foliage, is placed on one side among the front curls, and a chef d'or is brought from behind the bow at the back of the head, round upon the forehead. The ear-rings, || brooch, and ceinture buckle are gold.

OPERA DRESS.

A GOWN of reps Indienne of a bright full shade of blue; the corsage low and square behind, and sitting close to the shape. The front is arranged en cœur, but without a revers. Long sleeves, of the Imbecille form, surmounted by epaulettes of a round shape, edged with fancy silk trimming. Two rows of similar trimming, but each headed by a rouleau, go round the border. They are placed at some distance from each other; the highest a little below the knee. The head-dress is a blond lace cap, the caul of which is open: the trimming of the front, deeper on one side than on the other, is turned back on the right side by a large bouquet of exotics, and by a sprig of foliage on the left. The brides are gold-coloured gauze ribbon.

A dress of blonde de Chantilly, over white satin; the corsage of the lace dress, cut low and square round the bosom, is ornamented with a lappel which forms points upon the shoulders; the points falling over a single row of superb blond lace, which covers the short béret sleeve of the white satin under-dress. Two very deep flounces, so arranged that one falls a little over the other, reach from the bottom of the skirt considerably above the knee, and are surmounted by a very rich embroidery. The wedding veil, also of blonde de Chantilly, is arranged in the drapery style at the back of the head, and the corners, brought round the base of the bows of hair on the summit of the head, are attached by a nuptial garland of orange flowers. A bandeau of emeralds set in gold goes round the forehead; earrings, necklace, and bracelets to correspond.

DINNER DRESS.

A GOWN of lavender-coloured satin, corsage drapé, and cut very low. White satin short sleeves, over which are long ones of white grenadine gauze. The epaulettes are of velvet to correspond with the dress. They are very small, and are open on the shoulder. Velvet cuffs, very deep, and cut round the upper edge in points. The skirt is trimmed in the style of a drapery down one side of the front, and round the border at the knee, with a fancy velvet trimming to correspond with the dress. The headdress is a white crape toque, ornamented with the plumage of birds of paradise, and gold beads. The jewellery worn with this dress should be gold and pearls.