And its pleasing repast, and its innocent play,
In the crowd of the world will be known no

more

But you'll often think of its peaceful shade,
And long will it be ere its memory fade.

The mother that watches your gambols now,

And smiles on your mirth, in the dust will lie; And perhaps even your bright heads may bow,

Ere your sun has reach'd the meridian sky— Yes! smiling young urchins! there's none can say When the shades of the evening may darken his day.

Perhaps you may live on to virtuous age,

And have round you a group like your own gay band;

And, with the bright hopes of some patriarch sage,
In the midst of a rising posterity stand-

You will look on their sports, and then live o'er
The pleasures you knew by the cottage door.

The barefoot boy that kneels on the grass,

May perhaps have others to kneel to him; And the fair-hair'd girl to wealth may pass,

And cover with purple her sun-burnt limb; And he who is sipping his milk from the bowl, May drink the inspiring draught of the soul.

The half-clad cherub, who smiles in glee,

May be a man of grief and tears;

And the boy who climbs by his mother's knee,

May always sink through desponding fears; While the babe on the breast may a wanderer be, And traverse the bounds of the land and the sea.

Be happy, young creatures! while yet ye may,
Nor dream of the sorrows that come to all;
O! dim not the sun of your infant day

With fears of the ills that may yet befall

Ye are happy now-it avails you not
To waste a thought on your future lot.

Give all to joy, unstain'd and free,

Ay! make it a revel—a fairy song;

Let your feelings be bright, like the leaves of the tree, That throws its shade o'er your mirthful throng

For never on earth will enjoyment pour

Round your hearts like the bliss of the cottage door.

EARLY IMPRESSIONS.

A Fragment.

BY THE AUTHOR OF TOKEAH.

"I was still a child, and had not yet passed my sixth year. My parents were poor, very poor. My father was a teacher in a small town of the grand duchy of Baden. Of six children I was the youngest, and a great favourite with both my parents. My father was an excellent violin player, and as often as the lord of the domain came to reside at his chateau, he was called upon to direct the band of musicians who were to play at the fêtes.

"It was on such a summons that I was permitted to accompany him. Dressed in my Sunday's best, I was gaily scampering before him to look at the worldly grandeur of my lord, whom I fancied, as a matter of course, to be the first personage in the world; for the steward of the domain never spoke of him in any other terms than those of our most gracious lord,' and my

father, again, never accosted the steward, without ' holding his hat in his hands. Often do I remember this important personage, and the crowd of peasants on a court day, as they stood, their hats between their teeth, their heads bent downwards, and both hands crossed on their breasts-with what reverential awe did they consider this locum tenens of so great a personage! Further, I might perhaps behold the gracious baron himself. I cannot remember all I thought, but my little heart fluttered within me at the mere idea of meeting the looks of such a distinguished man.

"I beg your pardon, my lords and ladies," said the doctor, with a gentle smile, "for the slight satirical tinge, which, for the sake of delineating trifles, I am obliged to give to my humble narrative. It is the only revenge which we poor plebeians may sometimes allow ourselves with our highborn fellow beings.

"The occasion on which my father was summoned was an uncommon one. It was the fête on the birthday of the baron's eldest daughter, a young lady, whose image stands now, after sixteen years of active life, before my imagination, fresh as she lived and moved. At that time she appeared to me an angel. Whether the somewhat coarse forms, which I was accustomed to behold, formed too striking a contrast with the tender graceful shape of lady Luitgardis, or whether her subsequent benevolence had wreathed a charm round her memory, I can not now explain. It was probably the united power of moral

and physical beauty which made so deep an impression on my early susceptibility.

“My father of course was not admitted into the presence of the baron, he being only an inferior personage, a sort of liege, who ate the bread of his lord. He was, however, well treated at the servants' table, and I, not even being entitled to that, strolled with a cake in my pocket into the baronial garden, the gate of which I found open.

"How it happened that I went there I do not even now know. The garden was only for the highborn family. It would never have entered my little brain to trespass on it, though it was only a mile distant from my father's cottage-in such reverential awe was every thing held that belonged to my lord's estate-and I am quite sure that there had never been born in our village one bold enough to have said how this earthly paradise of a wilderness looked, till he became of age and was admitted among the labourers who had to keep the walks clean, and to prune the trees. The park was extensive and had many windings; and I sauntered so long about, admiring and gazing at the indigenous and exotic plants and shrubs, that I lost myself entirely. There can scarcely be a feeling more disagreeable to a child than the discovery of being lost; I have felt it ever since. I became no sooner aware of it than I ran to seek for an outlet from the labyrinth; my anxiety increased with my perplexity; fear began to suggest that there