THE PETRIFIED fern.

IN a valley, centuries ago, Grew a little fern-leaf, green and slender,

Veining delicate and fibres tender; Waving when the wind crept down so low;

Rushes tall, and moss, and grass

grew round it,

Playful sunbeams darted in and found it,

Drops of dew stole in by night, and crowned it,

But no foot of man e'er trod that way;

Earth was young and keeping holiday.

Monster fishes swam the silent main, Stately forests waved their giant branches,

Mountains hurled their snowy avalanches,

Mammoth creatures stalked across the plain;

Nature revelled in grand mysteries; But the little fern was not of these, Did not number with the hills and trees,

Only grew and waved its wild sweet way,

No one came to note it day by day.

IF THIS BE ALL.

O GOD! if this indeed be all
That life can show to me;
If on my aching brow may fall

No freshening dew from Thee; If with no brighter light than this The lamp of Hope may glow, And I may only dream of bliss,

And wake to weary woe!If friendship's solace must decay When other joys are gone,

And love must keep so far away,
While I go wandering on,
Wandering and toiling without gain,
The slave of others' will,

With constant care and frequent pain,
Despised, forgotten still,
Grieving to look on vice and sin,
Yet powerless to quell
The silent current from within,

The outward torrent's swell;
While all the good I would impart
The feelings I would share,

Now, when alone, do my thoughts no longer hover

Over the mountains, on that northern shore,

Resting their wings where heath and fern-leaves cover

Thy noble heart for ever, ever more?

All my life's bliss from thy dear life was given,

thee

All my life's bliss is in the grave with

But, when the days of golden dreams had perished,

And even Despair was powerless to destroy;

be cherished,

Strengthened, and fed without the aid of joy.

Then did I check the tears of useless passion

Weaned my young soul from yearning after thine;

Sternly denied its burning wish to hasten [mine.

Down to that tomb already more than

And, even yet, I dare not let it languish,

Dare not indulge in memory's rapturous pain;

Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish,

How could I seek the empty world again?

THE RETURN OF KANE.

TOLL, tower and minster, toll
O'er the city's ebb and flow!
Roll, muffled drum, still roll
With solemn beat and slow!.
A brave and a splendid soul
Hath gone
where all shall go.

Dimmer, in gloom and dark, Waned the taper, day by day, And a nation watched the spark, Till its fluttering died away.

Was its flame so strong and calm

Through the dismal years of ice

Roll, stirring drum, still roll!

Not a sigh- not a sound of woe, That a grand and glorious soul Hath gone where the brave must go.

ALL TOGETHER.

OLD friends and dear! it were ungentle rhyme,

If I should question of your true hearts, whether

[time, Ye have forgotten that far, pleasant The good old time when we were all together.

sublime;