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Committee, it is this, that, as authors, they have secured the praises of their friends-that the "Hora Sarisburienses" claims that merit for them in the school, which their opponents have ever been compelled to acknowledge in the cricket field.

TO MEDORA.

There is no need before I sip
That I thy form should see;
The glass does never reach my lip,
But I remember thee.

When absent, ere I taste the wine,
For thee I breathe a sigh;
And wish all good to thee and thine,
When thou art haply nigh.

I am not vain enough to think
My wish can give thee health;
Nor that the toast I freely drink
Can bring thee weal or wealth.

Yet still the glass my lip will press,
Still thee my thoughts recall,

Still, still my heart thy name will bless,
For thou deserv'st it all.

And if, when near, thou mark'st mine eye
Around thee only range;

Or should'st thou chance to hear me sigh,
Impute it not as strange.

The pray'r I breathe, the look I give,

Alike concern my heart:

Oh! need I ask thee to forgive

The feelings they impart.

Perhaps thou think'st 'tis but the scene
Of mirth remembers thee:

But no-full many an hour has been,-
Again, I deem, will be,

When in the temple's sacred shrine,
Or with my God alone—

I've join'd thy dearer fate with mine,
And made thy weal my own.

May 4th.

A DREAM.

By day, by night, thou art my thought's employ,
My hope when absent, and when near my joy;
My cares, my dreams, my prayers, are all for thee,
Thou ever welcome star of memory.'

This morn, invited by the smiles of May,
As rose the lark to welcome dawning day,
Thro' varied flowers on which the dew-drop stood
I saunter'd lonely, and in pensive mood;

Nor deign'd on these to waste one transient look,
One passing thought;-at length a rippling brook
My steps delayed; its swift and babbling stream
Recall'd my wand'ring thoughts from sorrow's dream ;
Weary and sad, with vex'd yet vacant mind,
But not, alas! to rest, I there reclin'd
Upon the verdant bank. The willow spread
Its drooping branches o'er my throbbing head;
Whilst from yon spreading oak's majestic spray
The sooty blackbird pour'd his mellow lay:
The woods responsive, and the echoing groves,
Of feather'd tribes, retold the happy loves.
Here nought was heard, but what must care beguile,
Nought seen, but nature's universal smile.
Surely such scenes to ev'ry feeling heart
Must sacred joy and happiness impart :

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Alas! for me, of ev'ry hope bereft,

They had nor charm, nor peace, nor pleasure left.
That bliss, so sought by others, seem'd to show
My utter wretchedness-my depth of woe.
Grief rose on grief; unheeded swell'd my sighs,
Till sleep, in pity, clos'd my aching eyes.
There did my thoughts fond pleasure's path pursue,
And dream of blissful scenes I never knew.
My fancy plac'd beside me, in the shade

Of spreading boughs, (a grot by nature made,)
A well-known form, my sole, my ev'ry thought,
Whose pleasure was the only joy I sought;
Her hand a volume grac'd, she bade me read
Of how a youth his faithful love deceivd,
And, playful, ask'd, if I the tale believ'd?
That one, whose sense and honor both combin'd
To prove the goodness of a virtuous mind;
That one, who often vow'd to Him above

That pow'r, nor time, nor place should cool his love;
That one, who seem'd so firm, should really change,
To her confiding heart seem'd passing strange..

Her glance met mine, she breath'd a deep-fetch'd sigh,
Whilst tears of pity brighten'd in her eye:

The all she would have said that sigh express'd,

And, kneeling at the shrine of love, I press'd
Her hand unto my lips; but ere I spoke
The charm dissolv'd, and I, alas,-awoke!

A. S.

PRIDE.

On referring to the dictionary, for the definition of "Pride," we find, on the authority of Milton, "insolence;" and, on that of Shakspeare and Smith, "generous elation of heart, and dignity of manner." Thus, then, it is that this word is often misapplied, and two qualities, differing so widely in themselves, are confounded one with another. Nothing can be more revolting to the senses,

or debasing to the character of man, than the former. That a rational being should, on account of any worldly advantages, carry himself with hauteur towards a fellowcreature, is contrary to every rule of that society, without which all human affairs would fall to the ground; and, that a Christian should so far forget his name, and the great glory attached to it, as to treat with contempt, the meanest of God's creatures, whom his great Master died to save, is a matter scarcely to be credited. On the other hand, that feeling, proceeding from the knowledge that you are sprung from an ancient and honorable parentage, which has never, either in peace or war, tarnished its fair renown-and that your ancestors have expended their fortunes, and freely given up their lives, in defence of their Church and King, may surely be allowed to elevate the hearts of its possessors, and to point out to them their decided superiority over those republican spirits, whose chief aim is, the entire subversion of all rank in the world.

It has been asked, by those who wish to reduce all things to their own level, why one class of persons should possess advantages superior to another? It is far beyond mortals to account for the determinations of the Divinity. In Pope's "Essay on Man," however, we read,—

Order is Heav'n's first law, and this confest,
Some are, and must be, greater than the rest.

That any thing should subsist without order, is impossible. The world (the system of which is so beautifully organized, that God himself acknowledged that it was good,) would, in such a case, be converted into one vast scene of anarchy. There would be no laws, and yet too many who would require their restraint. Rapine and old chaos, would again resume their sway. The various gradations of rank have been conformed to throughout all ages. The Romans as well as Grecians, both famed for their love of equality and independence, have alike owned the deference due to persons of noble and unsullied parentage.

This feeling deserves a very different name from Pride. It is rather the generous effusion of a noble heart; and, if a veneration for the fame of our progenitors can, in the slightest degree, excite us to imitate their virtues, it is a feeling calculated for the improvement of mankind, and, as such, entitled to the highest commendation.

GEORGE WENTWORTH.

OH, EDITORS! EDITORS!

Rage bids me address ye, while scorn and contempt would have me hold ye in derision; but I have no inclination to laugh: no; you have injured me above measure, and I am reduced to a degree of misery that compels me to solicit my worst enemies to make known my grievances to the public, without the least particle of hope that they will be alleviated. Behold me, who before the publication of your first number, was respected by the highest, and feared by the lowest, now torn, dog'sear'd, and even expelled my native desk, lying disregarded on a dusty floor; and if a little idle urchin is compelled to open my unpleasant pages, your trash is often placed between me and his wandering eyes; or, should, by chance, some one, who is ambitious of shining in the pages of your odious work, lay his careless hands upon me, it is but to line my margin with his sorry compositions! Alas! alas! they who can use me thus, know not my value. Who now hears of the Eton Latin Grammar dying a natural death, after having outlived three good brown paper covers, and faithfully served masters of the first and second generations. I am young, and yet have known misfortunes above number, having had more than twenty ugly faces scribbled on my leaves, and twice as many kicks from the shoe of my odious master. Virgil and Ovid, as well as my little Grecian brother, are highly incensed against you, while

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