When in cold oblivion's shade

Beauty, wealth, and fame are laid,—
Where immortal spirits reign,

There may we three meet again.

ANONYMOUS.

Gaffer Gray.

"H! why dost thou shiver and shake. Gaffer Gray,

And why doth thy nose look so blue? "T is the weather that 's cold,

'T is I'm grown very old,

And my doublet is not very new,
Well-a-day!"

"Then line that warm doublet with ale, Gaffer Gray,

And warm thy old heart with a glass." "Nay, but credit I 've none,

And my money 's all gone;

Then say how may that come to pass?
Well-a-day!"

"Hie away to the house on the brow, Gaffer Gray,

And knock at the jolly priest's door." "The priest often preaches

Against worldly riches,

But ne'er gives a mite to the poor,
Well-a-day!"

"The lavyer lives under the hill,

Gaffer Gray,

"

Warmly fenced both in back and in front."

"He will fasten his locks,

And will threaten the stocks,

Should he evermore find me in want,
Well-a day!"

'The squire has fat beeves and brown ale,
Gaffer Gray,

And the season will welcome you there."
"His fat beeves and his beer,

And his merry new year,

Are all for the flush and the fair,

Well-a-day!"

"My keg is but low, I confess,

Gaffer Gray,

What then? While it lasts, man, we 'll live."

"The poor man alone,

When he hears the poor moan,

Of his morsel a morsel will give,

Well-a-day."

THOMAS HOLCROFT.

What Constitutes a State.

WHAT Constitutes a state?

Not high-raised battlement or labored mound,

Thick wall or moated gate;

Not cities proud with spires and turrets crowned;
Not bays and broad-armed ports,

Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride;
Not starred and spangled courts,

Where low-browed baseness wafts perfume to ride.
No:-men, high-minded men,

With powers as far above dull brutes endued

In forest, brake, or den,

As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude,—

Men who their duties know,

But know their rights, and, knowing, dare maintain, Prevent the long-aimed blow,

And crush the tyrant while they rend the chain;

These constitute a state;

And sovereign law, that state's collected will,

O'er thrones and globes elate

Sits empress, crowning good, repressing ill.
Smit by her sacred frown,

The fiend, Dissension, like a vapor sinks;
And e'en the all-dazzling crown

Hides his faint rays, and at her bidding shrinks;
Such was this heaven-loved isle,

Than Lesbos fairer and the Cretan shore!

No more shall freedom smile?

Shall Britons languish, and be men no more?
Since all must life resign,

Those sweet rewards which decorate the brave

'Tis folly to decline,

And steal inglorious to the silent grave.

SIR WILLIAM JONES

To the Cuckoo.

HAIL, beauteous stranger of the grove!

Thou messenger of Spring!

Now heaven repairs thy rural seat,
And woods thy welcome sing.

Soon as the daisy decks the green,
Thy certain voice we hear.
Hast thou a star to guide thy path,
Or mark the rolling year?

Delightful visitant! with thee

I hail the time of flowers,
And hear the sound of music sweet
From birds among the bowers.

The school-boy, wandering through the wood
To pull the primrose gay,

Starts, thy most curious voice to hear,
And imitates thy lay.

What time the pea puts on the bloom,

Thou fliest thy vocal vale,
An annual guest in other lands,
Another spring to hail.

Sweet bird! thy bower is ever green,

Thy sky is ever clear;

Thou hast no sorrow in thy song,

No winter in thy year!

Oh, could I fly, I'd fly with thee!
We'd make, with joyful wing,
Our annual visit o'er the globe,

Attendants on the Spring.

JOHN LOGAN.

Auld Robin Gray.

WHEN the sheep are in the fauld, and a' the kye at hame,

And a' the weary warld to sleep are gane,

The waes o' my heart fall in showers from my e'e,

While my gudeman sleeps sound by me.

Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and sought me for his bride,

But saving a crown he had naithing else beside:

To mak' the crown a pound, my Jamie went to sea,
And the crown and the pound were baith for me.

He had nae been gane a year and a day,

When my faither brake his arm, and our cow was stole

away;

My mither she fell sick, and Jamie at the sea,

And auld Robin Gray cam' a courting to me.

My faither could na wark, my mither could na spin,
I tcil'd day and night, but their bread I could na win;
Auld Rob maintain’d 'em baith, and wi' tears in his e'e,
Said, "Jennie, for their sakes, oh marry me."

My heart it said nay, for I look'd for Jamie back,
But the wind it blew hard, and the ship was a wrack—
The ship was a wrack, why did na Jamie dee?

Or why was I spared to cry, Wae's me!

My faither urged me sair, my mither did na speak,
But she look'd in my face till my heart was like to break:
They gi'ed him my hand, though my heart was at sea,—
So auld Robin Gray is gudeman to me!

I had na been a wife a week but only four,
When, sitting sae mournfully out at my door,

I saw my Jamie's wraith, for I could na think it he,
Till he said, "I'm come hame, love, to marry thee."

Sair, sair did we greet, and mickle did we say,—
We took but ae kiss, and tare oursels away:

I wish I were dead, but I am na lik' to dee,-
Oh, why was I born to say, Wae's me!

1

gang like a ghaist, but I care not to spin;

I dare not think on Jamie, for that would be a sin;

So I will do my best a gude wife to be,

For auld Robin Gray is kind unto me.

LADY ANNE BARNARD.

Mary's Dream.

THE moon had climbed the highest hill
Which rises o'er the source of Dee,

And from the eastern summit shed

Her silver light on tower and tree,