Danger and death pursued its devious way; Its torch but lit the murd'rer to his prey. George started forth, with joy and rapture wild, To seize a prize so tempting to a child; And for a while, with infánt pleasure, Fondly caress'd his costly treasure.

With ardent gaze the glitt'ring toy he eyed,
And turn'd it o'er and o'er with conscious pride;
Till by degrees at length familiar grown,
He dropp'd it carelessly, its int'rest flown;
Tir'd of his sport, with wanton tread,
He crush'd the pretty insect's head.

And thus I reason'd;-This no novel scene;
A portraiture of man may here be seen;
Where the rich charms which Nature's gifts

supply,

Lead their fair tenants but to blaze and die.

The pleasures which to-day we prize,

Soon lose their value in our eyes.

Deck'd with the choicest beauties of her kind,

With ev'ry ornament of face and mind;

The lovely maid is led to grace the ball,

The theatre, saloon, or painted hall;

To flutter for a season there,

To shine the fairest of the fair.

With panting heart, with feelings all on fire, O'ercome by beauty, melted by desire,

Th' impatient youth the dazzling form sur

veys;

To win her smile his ev'ry art displays:
Love and ambition urge their sway
To bear the golden palm away.

But dwell not on the raptures of the hour,
Nor, Maiden, overrate thy magic pow'r :
Thy bloom may fade, thy beauty soon may

die,

And man is seldom form'd for constancy.

All mortal pleasures are but frail;

Life's brightest hues grow soonest pale.

Alas! the sweets of pleasures long possess'd Surfeit the sense, and sicken in the breast: Cloy'd with delights long pass'd, the lover flies,

And seeks fresh beauties under other skies;

Throws her away with wanton scorn,
And leaves her at her fate to mourn.

Se'st thou yon lovely, fragrant, damask rose, Its blooming colours to the view disclose? Won by its charms, anon, some haughty fair, Plucks the sweet flow'r to deck her glossy hair; Ere night, its faded beauty dies,

And, cast away, neglected lies.

The little glow-worm while it spreads its light,
And throws its cheering gleam upon the night,
A pleasing object to the gazing eye,
Will still this lesson to the mind convey;
The brightest charms may fail of bliss;
Far humbler lead to happiness.

The glitt'ring torch that lit the glow-worm's path, Shone but to point a passage to its death; While other insects less observ'd and kenn'd, Attain a safer though an humbler end.

Distinction's but an air-balloon ;

Attracts all eyes, but falls ere noon.

TO A YOUNG FRIEND ON HER BIRTHDAY, JANUARY 14th, 1836.

A dreary dark sky had for some time prevail'd ; It had rain'd, it had blown, it had frozen and hail'd:

Hoary winter, old, crippled, and bent like a bow, Had cloth'd himself snug in his mantle of snow.

The leaves were all dripping, and wet was the ground,

Cross Nature had spread desolation around: The beasts too look'd sad: the birds hung ev'ry

feather,

And seem'd to partake of the gloom of the weather.