6. When lovers meet in adverse hour,

"Tis like a sun-glimpse through a shower;
A watery ray an instant seen,

Then darkly closing clouds between.

SCOTT'S Rokeby.

7. And does not a meeting like this make amends
For all the long years I've been wand'ring away -
To see thus around me my youth's early friends,
As smiling and kind as in that happy day?

MELANCHOLY.-(See CARE.)

MEMORY.

1. He that is strucken blind cannot forget
The precious treasures of his eyesight lost.

2. Of joys departed, never to return, How bitter's the remembrance!

3. Rise to transports past expressing, Sweeter by remembrance made.

SHAKSPEARE.

BLAIR'S Grave.

GOLDSMITH.

4. Remembrance wakes with all her busy train, Swells at my heart, and turns the past to pain. GOLDSMITH'S Deserted Village.

5. Had memory been lost with innocence

We had not known the sentence, nor th' offence;
"T was man's chief punishment, to keep in store
The sad remembrance what he was before.

DENHAM.

6. Thinking will make me mad; why must I think, When no thought brings me comfort?

SOUTHERN.

7. And scenes long past, of joy and pain,

Come wildering o'er his aged brain.

SCOTT's Last Minstrel.

8. It haunts me still, though many a year has fled, Like some wild melody.

Like a tomb-searcher, memory ran,

Lifting each shroud that time had cast
O'er buried hopes.

ROGERS' Italy.

MOORE's Loves of the Angels.

10. Long, long be my heart with such memories fill'd!
Like the vase in which roses have once been distill'd,
You may break, you may ruin the vase, if you will,
But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.

11. When time, which steals our years away,

Shall steal our pleasures too,

MOORE.

The memory of the past will stay,

And half our joy renew.

MOORE.

12. Let fate do her worst; there are moments of joy,

Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot destroy;
Which come in the night-time of sorrow and care,
And bring back the features that joy used to wear.

13. My memory now is but the tomb Of joys long past.

14. But in that instant, o'er his soul
Winters of memory seem'd to roll,
And gather in their drop of time
A life of pain, an age of crime;
O'er him who loves, or hates, or fears,
Such moments pour the grief of years.

MOORE.

BYRON'S Giaour.

BYRON'S Giaour.

15. But ever and anon, of grief subdued

16.

There comes a token, like a serpent's sting,
Scarce seen, but with fresh bitterness imbued.

BYRON'S Childe Harold.

And other days came back to me

With recollected music, tho' the tone

Is chang'd and solemn, like the cloudy groan
Of dying thunder on the distant wind.

BYRON'S Childe Harold.

17. We ne'er forget, tho' there we are forgot.

BYRON'S Don Juan.

18. Oh! friends regretted, scenes for ever dear,
Remembrance hails you with her warmest tear!
Drooping she bends o'er pensive Fancy's urn,
To trace the hours which never can return.

20. There are moments of life that we never forget,
Which brighten, and brighten, as time steals away;
They give a new charm to the happiest lot,

And they shine on the gloom of the loneliest day.
J. G. PERCIVAL.

21. As we look back thro' life in our moments of sadness,
How few and how brief are the gleamings of gladness!
Yet we find, 'midst the gleam that our pathway o'ershaded,
A few spots of sunshine a few flowers unfaded;
And memory still hoards, as her richest of treasures,
Some moments of rapture-some exquisite pleasures.
PROSPER M. WETMORE.

22. On this dear jewel of my memory

My heart will ever dwell, and fate in vain,
Possessing that, essay to make me wretched.

LORD JOHN RUSSELL.

23. 'Tis sweet to remember. I would not forego
The charm which the past o'er the present can throw,
For all the gay visions that fancy may weave,

In her web of illusion, that shines to deceive.

24. Our hopes are flown-yet parted hours Still in the depths of memory lie, Like night-gems in the silent blue

Of summer's deep and brilliant sky.

W. G. CLARK.

G. D. PRENTICE.

25. We have been bless'd;—tho' life is made A tear, a silence, and a shade,

And

years have left the vacant breast

To loneliness-we have been bless'd!

G. D. PRENTICE.

26. Thy words have touch'd a chord of memory's lyre,

And wak'd the key-note of the saddest dirge
That fancy ever play'd to melancholy.

RUFUS DAWES.

27. There's a feeling within us that loves to revert To the merry old times that are gone.

28. This memory brightens o'er the past,
As when the sun, conceal'd

Behind some cloud that near us hangs,
Shines on a distant field.

H. W. LONGFELLOW.

29. The mind will, in its worst despair, Still ponder o'er the past,

On moments of delight that were

Too beautiful to last.

BALFE'S Bohemian Girl.

30. Youth's eager life and changeful lot, Nor sterner manhood's graver toys, Nor trembling age himself, can blot

The memory of our earliest joys.

J. H. McILVANE.

31. But thank'd be memory- her sweet power can bring

Back to my heart its early joys again;

Her magic spell revives the frozen spring
Of youth and hope, and reunites the chain
Of sever'd sympathies.

32. Fond memory, to her duty true,
Brings back their faded forms to view;
How lifelike, thro' the mist of years,
Each well-remember'd face appears!

HOFLAND.

CHARLES SPRAGUE

33. 'Tis vain, and worse than vain to think on joys Which, like the hour that's gone, return no more.

ISAAC CLASON.

34. And thus, as in memory's bark we shall glide,
To visit the scenes of our boyhood anew,
Though oft we may see, looking down on the tide,
The wreck of full many a hope shining through-
Yet still, as in fancy we point to the flowers

That once made a garden of all the gay shore,
Deceiv'd for a moment, we'll think them still ours,

And breathe the fresh air of life's morning once more.

35. Memory's that mirror which affliction throws
Down to the earth, as cruelest of its foes,

Hoping to drive remorse thus from its side;
But when the mirror down to earth is dash'd,
And rudely in ten thousand pieces mash'd,
Each fragment shows the reflection multiplied.
J. T. WATSON.