Though the stars fled from the west,
There is a star yet for somebody,
Lighting the home he loves best,—
Warming the bosom of somebody.

There'll be a coat o'er the chair,

There will be slippers for somebody;
There'll be a wife's tender care,-

Love's fond embracement for somebody :
There'll be the little one's charms,-
Soon 'twill be waken'd for somebody;
When I have both in my arms,

Oh! but how blest will be somebody!

Swain.

Well thou play'dst the housewife's part,
And all thy threads with magic art

Have wound themselves about this heart,

My Mary.

Cowper.

Actions Graceful.

Neither her outside, form'd so fair, nor aught
So much delights me, as those graceful acts,
Those thousand decencies that daily flow
From all her words and actions, mix'd with love

And sweet compliance, which declare unfeign'd
Union of mind, or in us both one soul.

Milton.

Active in her Sympathies.

When the men of Israel bowed in helplessness before Pharaoh, two women spurned his edicts and refused his behests. A father made no effort to save the infant Moses, but a mother's care hid him while concealment was possible, and a sister watched over his preservation when exposed on the river's brink. To woman was intrusted the charge of providing for the perils and the wants of the wilderness ; and in the hour of triumph, woman's voice was loudest in the acclaim of joy that ascended to Heaven from an emancipated nation.

Bellew.

Her Affection.

Affections are as thoughts to her,
The measure of her hours;
Her feelings have the fragrancy,
The freshness of young flowers;
And lovely passions, changing oft,

So fill her, she appears

The image of themselves by turns,—
The idol of past years!

Pinckney.

All in All to Her Lover.

Not an angel dwells above

Half so fair as her I love,

Heaven knows how she'll receive me.

If she smiles, I'm blest indeed,

If she frowns, I'm quickly freed:

Heaven knows she ne'er can grieve me.

Phillis, men say that all my vows

Are to thy fortune paid;
Alas! my heart he little knows,

Who thinks my love a trade.

Were I of all these woods the lord,
One berry from thy hand
More real pleasure would afford

Than all my large command.

My humble love has learn'd to live
On what the nicest maid,

Without a conscious blush, may give

Beneath the myrtle shade.

Vanbrugh.

Sir Charles Sedley.

Ambition not desirable in.

When girls are grown up, they begin to be courted and caressed; when they think that the recommending themselves to the affections of the men is the only business they

have to attend to, and so presently fall to tricking, and dressing, and practising all the little engaging arts peculiar to their sex. In these they place all their hopes, as they do all their happiness in the success of them. But it is fit they should be given to understand that there are other attractions much more powerful than these; that the respect we pay them is not due to their Beauty, so much as to their Modesty, and Innocence, and unaffected Virtue; and that these are the true, the irresistible charms, such as will make the surest and most lasting conquests.

Addison.

Her Amiability.

She is of so free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition, she holds it a vice in her goodness not to do more than she is requested.

Shakespeare.

A Ministering Angel.

When fortune changed, and love fled far,
And hatred's shafts flew thick and fast,

Thou wert the solitary star

Which rose and set not to the last.

Oh! blest be thine unbroken light!
That watch'd me as a seraph's eye,

And stood between me and the night,
For ever shining sweetly nigh.

And when the cloud upon us came,
Which strove to blacken o'er thy ray-
Then purer spread its gentle flame,

And dash'd the darkness all away.

Thou stood'st as stands a lovely tree,
Whose branch unbroke, but gently bent,
Still waves with fond fidelity

Its boughs above a monument.

Byron.

Her saintly patience doth not fail,
She keepeth watch till morn.

Day unto day her dainty hands
Make Life's soil'd temples clean,
And there's a wake of glory, where
Her spirit pure hath been.

At midnight through that shadow-land,
Her living face doth gleam;

The dying kiss her shadow, and

The dead smile in their dream.

Gerald Massey.

To the honour, to the eternal honour of the sex, be it stated, that in the path of duty no sacrifice is to them too high or too dear. Nothing is with them impossible, but to shrink from love, honour, innocence, and religion. The voice of pleasure or of power may pass by unheeded; but the voice