heart often recognizes; for the affections are the truest poetry of the heart.

It has been said justly, that "almost every object which life affords is capable of poetical adornment, pleasing when depicted, and naturally connected with reflections of the most interesting description."

THE MOTHER'S PARTIAL GAZE.

No corner of this earth is found,
But Love his influence spreads around:
All, all confess his sov'reign might :-

He sighs along the evening breeze,
He murmurs through the budding trees,
And warbles with the bird of night.

He animates the noon-tide blaze,
He dances on morn's paly rays,

And silvers o'er the peaceful vale:
He bids the blushing Rose to blow,
And all its dewy treasures show,

And every flow'ry sweet exhale.

But, to the Mother's partial gaze,
When he his sweetest pow'r displays,
When all his magic arts arise;

Her children's ruby lips he seeks,
He blooms upon their dimpled cheeks,
Or sparkles in their radiant eyes.

The next in degree of those delightful and sacred instincts, which elevate human nature, and which inspire enthusiasm, is a love of our country: every

virtuous bosom ought to own its influence, and acknowledge it as stimulating to noble deeds, and leading to generous conduct.

In the depths of the German forest our sex's characteristic virtue of patriotism seems to have been justly appreciated by our rude forefathers, as you have read the record in history. The strong sense of individual and national independence, and domestic reserve, which belonged to the ancient German character, have shone eminently in the long and arduous struggle for deliverance of their native land, in the present age, and will, we trust, be also long conspicuous in the modern English.

*

Nothing gives greater dignity and generosity to our affections, than to sympathize in the glory, honour, and renown of our country; or to shed a tear in the hours of her adverse fate, when discomfiture or misfortune eclipses her fame. A mother's duty extends to teaching the heroic heart of her sons to beat to the high stimulus of forwarding our national glory; and imperious duty often dictates what her poor heart would fain deny; for well she anticipates hours of indescribable solicitude and anxiety; daily will recur the moment when to listen for the harbinger of weal or woe. On the 23rd of June, 1815, who can ever forget the dread dispatch then `announced? Wives! Parents! Friends! their trembling

* Refer to Memoirs of the House of Saxony, by Shoberl, p. 169.

:

hands refused their office:it lay before them unopened. And surrounding daughters drooped the head, like the tender flowers which anticipate the storm but 'tis past-'tis gone-he is safeEngland conquers! Nevertheless our tears were claimed for the fallen brave: with tears of sympathy was this dispatch of Duke Wellington read throughout our empire-" My heart is broken by the terrible loss I have sustained of my old friends and companions, and my poor soldiers," &c. &c.

VICTORY OF WATERLOO.

SAY, why did Victory appear

Less pleasing to the Conqueror's eye?
Alas! how many shed the tear!
How many heave the deep-drawn sigh!

For every wreath of glory won,

In battle's fatal, dreadful strife,
And every gallant deed there done,
Was purchased at the price of life.

In vain does reason try to check

The sigh, that rises from the breast;
In vain she tries in smiles to deck
The face, with woe and grief opprest

But while the tears his face bedew,
The Parent feels an honest pride;
He thanks his God his son was true,
And nobly fighting, nobly died

"Twas there with firm and dauntless mind,
Our heroes brav'd the shaft of death;
And, crown'd with Victory, resign'd

At Freedom's shrine, their patriot breath.

The shouts that else had rent the skies,
For England's conquest of the foe,
Sank into sorrow's mournful cries,
Expressive of a Nation's woe.

Fame shall their honour'd names engrave,

On Glory's everlasting scroll;

And, in the records of the brave,

Their deeds at WATERLOO enrol.

Our great and gallant Hero dearly purchased that undying wreath "which encircles our Wellington's name:"-aided by the wisdom of our Statesmen and zeal of our Princes, he has raised England's military fame to a proud height. (1) Allow a Soldier's daughter to exult in our renown. Ah, why should the generous feeling, the amor patriæ of the English, be too often sacrificed to party-spirit, that concomitant evil of a free government.*

Future generations will not fail to bestow the wellearned meed of praise, due to achievements great and good, which have ensured the honour and welfare of Europe. My little drawing of the flower,

* The best intentions of our greatest men have often been thwarted by party-spirit, which has, since the reign of King William and Mary, been the peculiar disgrace of England.-See Memoirs of the Duke of Marlborough, by W. Coxe.

"Forget-me-not," gathered from off a grave at Waterloo, and afterwards transplanted into our garden, will remind you of the tears we gave to the untimely fate of the young warrior * * *

FORGET-ME-NOT.

Sweet Flower! that o'er the turf didst wave,
Where sleeps in death the honour'd brave
Who taught the Eagle's pride to yield,
On Waterloo's ensanguin'd field ;

Transplanted from our warrior's tomb,
Amid my garden thou shalt bloom;
Here spread thine azure blossoms free,
Emblem of deathless Constancy.

Thy name o'er fancy breathes a spell,
I seem to view some youth who fell
In glory, on that fatal spot,

And hear him sigh, " Forget me not." (2)

Memory also recalls many a gallant spirit, who fought and died in their country's cause, previous to the final success which crowned our arms.

Deemed worthy the most honourable death, MajorGeneral Sir John Moore, HIS thread of life was snapped in the arms of Victory. In his character were united the merits of the general and the scholar; of the gentleman and the patriot. His loss to his country and friends was great; to one faithful bosom it has been irreparable. Will *** deign to accept of these lines, to testify our sympathy; and