THE WILLOW TREE.

O how I love this willow tree,

To watch it droop beneath the stream,
But ah! this weeping willow tree,
A solemn moralist doth seem.

Behold the infant at the breast,

See how it smiles in beauty, see!
But the sweet babe by pains opprest,
Droops its faint head-a willow tree.
See buoyant youth, with sparkling eye,
Who pants with hope so glad as he?
But wan disease smiles grimly by,
When low he droops-a willow tree.
See manhood, like the tow'ring oak,

In beauty, strength, and vigour see!
But ah, how pale, how chang'd that look,
He sinks, he bows-a willow tree.
See hoary age, with furrow'd cheek,
With falt'ring step and feeble knee;
Death soon the cords of life shall break,
And lay him 'neath the willow tree.
Sweet willow, saddest of the grove,

Farewell thou weeping willow tree!
Thy tearful boughs I yet must love,
And watch thee-weeping willow tree.
J. S. H.

Oct. 24, 1822.

LINES.

To the Air of Adeste Fideles.

O happy immortals, who in bliss celestial,
Escap'd from the sorrows of lingering time;
Far from the scenes I wander o'er terrestrial,
Indulge in glowing pleasures all divine.

O blest! ye have waded through the chilling river,
Where Nature must bathe first to purify,
Whose brink I tread, and feel my bosom shiver,
While towards the Land of Promise darts my eye.
But shall I not ford it, with that arm sustaining,
Which bore you, and led you, to heav'nly rest?
Cease, O my spirit, cease then thy complaining,
And quell the ruffling tempest, in my breast.
O happy immortals, I shall, through my Saviour,
Be happy, and happy as saints above;
And bask in glory beaming from his favour,
Who ever is unchanging in his love.

Kentish Town.

PARAPHRASE OF PSALM 124.

I. C.

If the Lord had not been our decided protection,
May Britain, preserved, exultingly say,
When mortals and devils, in hostile connexion,.
Maliciously labour'd to make us their prey;
Then had their infernal endeavour succeeded,
And tyranny quickly our rights overpower'd;
The tears of the wretched been vented unheeded,
And vengeance, remorseless, our treasures devour'd.
Then had the proud billows, tremendously swelling,
Derided the force of all human controul:
And the surges, each other with fury repelling,
And roaring destruction, o'erwhelmed our soul,
Bless God, who the snare of the fowler hath broken,
And saved us from gnawing affliction intense:*
Our soul is escap'd from the net, to betoken,
That God, the Creator, is still our defence.

*Alluding to Verse 6.

D. IVES.

EPITAPH ON A YOUNG LADY.

A sickly frame, a vigorous mind,
A temper sweet, a soul resign'd:
Consumptive pangs all art defied,
She felt their power, she smiled and died.
Oswestry.

J. D.

THE HEART KNOWETH ITS OWN BITTERNESS.

O, if there be a deepest wo

Beneath whose pangs the heart must groan,
That Spirit doth its horrors know,
Which bears its bitterness alone.

And there is wo that cannot speak,
And wo another cannot feel;

Beneath whose weight the heart must break,
And die of wounds no hand can heal.

No, there is ONE, who knows and feels

The serrows which our bosoms bear:
His hand the broken Spirit heals,
His voice will answer broken prayer.

C.

Down in the grave.

Select.

SONNET

From "Poems by one of a Family Circle."
"How oft beneath his blest and healing wings,
He would have gather'd me, and I would not!
Like a weak bird, all heedless of my lot;
Perverse and idle in my wanderings.

Now would my soul return, and trembling brings
Her wearied pinion to its wonted rest;

And faint with its short flights and flutterings,
Would seek a refuge in its parent's breast!

O father! in thy mercy shelter me,
For I am worn with mortal miseries:
My dark and earth-entangled spirit free,
And plume it to ascend its native skies;
With loosen'd wing to thy high rest to soar,
And never to desert it's mansion more."

LINES FROM A PRESENT FROM MY GOVERNESS. BY A LADY.

These upper-spring blessings, dear Father, I prize,

Tho' the joys of the worldling from me take their flight,

My soul, on the wings of devotion, would rise,

While I trace to their ocean those springs of delight.

A soil, dry and barren, alas! was my mind,

No refreshment to nourish my soul could I trace,
Like destitute Hagar, no spring could I find,
"Till the angel of mercy discover'd the place.

"Tis in Jesus the wells of salvation are found,
To my spirit new vigour and life they impart,
While I draw from these sources, my comforts abound,
And the joys of salvation spring up in my heart!

These springs shall continue my soul to supply,
While I tread the vast desert no drought shall I fear,
Tho' frequented by numbers, they never can dry,
But full and o'erflowing shall ever appear.

Should the dark vale of death for a moment dismay,
Still sweetly refreshing these waters shall prove;
And Jesus shall bear my glad spirit away,
To drink at the fountain of infinite love!

Register of Entelligence.

LITERARY.

Just Published.-JANE AND HER TEACHER. 18mo. with a fine engraving, price 9d. sewed, or half-bound Is.-A MOTHER'S PORTRAIT; sketched soon after her decease, for the study of her children, by their SURVIVING PARENT. 1 vol. 12mo. with an elegant engraving, price 4s. 6d. boards.-THE HABITATIONS OF CRUELTY; or, a Picture of Heathenism. By the author of an Hour in Newgate, &c. 18mo. stiff covers, 8d.-WINTER SCENES: or, the Unwin Family. Price 4d.-JOURNAL OF A TOUR FROM ASTRACHAN TO KARASA; containing Remarks on the general appearances of the Country, Manners of the Inhabitants, &c. with the substance of many conversations with Effendis, Mollas, and other Mahomedans, on the questions at issue between them and Christians. By the Rev. W, GLEN, Missionary, Astrachan. 12mo. price 4s. boards.-UNIVERSAL STENOGRAPHY; or, a Practical System of Short Hand; combining legibility and beauty; upon the general principles of the late ingenious Mr. Samuel Taylor; with various improvements from the best modern writers on this useful art. By W. HARDING. 12mo. -SERMONS. By the Rev. JOHN HAYDEN, Curate of Londonderry Cathedral.

In the Press.-BIBLE HISTORY; including the march of Israel from Egypt to the borders of the promised land. Revised and enlarged by Mrs. SHERWOOD.-SINCERITY; a tale. By the author of RACHAEL, a tale. 1 vol. 12mo. with an elegant engrav ing-SACRED FUGITIVES; in prose and verse. 1 vol. 18mo. By E. DERMER.

With

Preparing for Publication-MEMOIRS OF THE WOODGROVE FAMILY, and Sketches from a Pions Mother's Port-folio. engravings, &c. By the author of Cottage Scenes,'' Present from my Governess,' &c. in 1 vol. 18mo.-AN ELEGY, on the memory of the late Rev. Henry Martyn, with smaller pieces. To which will be added a portrait of Mr. Martyn. By JOHN LAWSON, Missionary at Calcutta, author of Oriental Harping,' and Woman in India.' Foolscap 8vo.-MARTHA; a Memorial of a beloved and only Sister. By ANDREW REED. A narrative founded on facts.

CAMBRIDGE, Jan. 16.-Mr. W. J. Bankes, M. P. has presented to the University Library several valuable books, recently printed at Milan and Venice, among which are the classical works edited by Angelo Maio, the learned Librarian of the Vatican-the Chronicle of Eusebius, by Aucher; Ciakciak's Italian, Armenian, and Turkish Dictionary; and Aucher's Armenian and English