Cohesion all over her surface was lost,

And fragments from gravity freed.

These, glad from attraction to find themselves loose, Scamper'd off in the neighbouring air ;

There ranging and racing wherever they chose,

They stopp'd not to think of the fare.

The Comet came on, and stood laughing awhile,

To see the mock Chaos at play,

Then catching the fragments at once with a smile,

In an orb they presently lay.

This orb he completed and render'd compact,

With figures engraven thereon :

A man there was seen with a tree on his back,

Or a fowler discharging his gun.

Some masks next he gave it of diff'rent hues,

And diff 'rent shapes too I ween ;

With pow'r to perplex crazing man with its views,

As often to this day is seen.

Then he toss'd it about the Earth with a whirl,

Which fix'd it in pathway secure,

That multiplied movement might perplex the churl,

Who had dar'd to insult him before.

This done, he departed, no longer to roam,

And, sated with vengeance, mov'd off to his home.

Suppose this be true-may not mortals expect,
In time perhaps shortly to come,

The wandering Comet more vengeance may wreak,

And make a new Greenlanders home!*

Nor with that contented, be coming again,

And often and often and more,

New moons to condense-till the number shall gain,

Beyond calculation's best power.

* The Greenlanders suppose departing souls to stop the first night at the Moon.

And the last, of the subtilest atoms the home,

Be a pretty moon, little and neat.

Which, falling, perchance, to our earth, may become,

For children a play thing complete!

LET us guess out a description of the may-be-supposed dwelling of this wonder-working Comet.

THE COMET'S PALACE.

"TWAS wide as the roll of Homerian eye,

When fancy was waking and warm :

'Twas vast as the ken of the spirits that fly,

In the blaze of the torridal storm.

In the center was placed a couch, whose extent
Would cover some worlds thinly spread :

Above, hung a myriad of Suns, with intent,

To keep off each atom of shade.

On one side a mirror shone brilliant and clear,

Of the lustre of diamonds made

—'Twas fashion'd by Vulcan, who trembled with fear,

As brightness to brightness he laid.

O'er all swung an arch of platina compact,

But so distant 'twas scarce to be seen

-The heat of the Sun's roving winds kept aback

That wander'd through spaceway between.

Stern pillars that cast back the gleam of the flames,

Hung pending from roof to the floor:

The tops of platina-my faney it tames,

To tell of the parts that were lower.

But I will not be beaten-They're fashion'd of hearts,

Collected from worlds that are gone,

O'er which black Ingratitude wielded her arts,

And dens'd them to essence of stone.

Those pillars that hung from the arch through the Suns,

Colonnading the dwelling around,

Sunk each in a billow of tempests and storms,

Such as roar under Ætnean ground.

From one to another the distance was vast,

Where Planets in numbers might lie,

As trembling they waited, ere levee was past,

A glance of the horrible eye.

The floor-the intense of the essence of stone,

With brilliancy's layers inlaid.

Like some millions of midnights' clear starlight it shone,

For diamonds but temper'd the shade.

Underneath the wide couch volcanoes belch'd flames,

The slumbering Monarch to warm.