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There the nightingale moaned, 'mid the dews of eve

As she piped her mournful love ;
And the plaintive-toned echoes would half deceive

The list'ning dove.

With the earliest breath of the waking morn

Would the bee our bosoms groet,
To repair to its hive with the weight o'erborne

Of honied feet.

But our joys—they are flown ! and the silent wood,

It remains not as before ;
And the shadowy site, where those old oaks stood

Is dark no more.

Merry April's glad sunbeams return again;

But no more our hearts rejoice;
And the evening smiles, but we ask in vain

The bird's sweet voice.

And the wandering wayfarer's careless hand

Now will ope our bosoms bare ; Which the bee's lightsome wing and the zephyr fann'd

With utmost care.

O return then again, all the joys that fled,

To our bosoms speed again ;
For our peace, is it o'er ? Has the winter sped

To us, in vain ?

ORIGINAL CORRESPONDENCE.

No. II.

Jack Kitson to the Eton Cads,

Ship Auckland,

Nov. 13th, 1842. Dear Friends,

The tenderness of our parting* at the railroad station, when, with the good wishes of all my comrades, I started on a new line to extend the principles of our profession among the Antedelavians on the other side of the world, makes me pretty certain that any news of your old friend Jack will be welcome at Eton. Next to the company of my old terrier Wasp, whose love for me is so extraordinary, that, as you know, none of the many gentlemen who have purchased hiin were ever able to retain him above a week, unless entrusted to my keeping at a moderate weekly charge, I was comforted at parting by the thought that the duty of supporting the credit of our race could not rest upon better shoulders than your own.

But enough of the sentimental for the present. After arranging matters with the Bishop, (you remember the gentleman as made so much of us) and promising him my assistance in carrying out his plans in New Zealand, I set out for my ship with a heavy heart, but determined to bear whatever might befall me with the spirit for which the Eton cad has always been renowned. But I soon found it would be casy to circumvent my fellow passengers, and make myself comfortable at their expense. I took care to shew my bigh breeding, by assuming a very misterious air, and by laying it on pretty thick about his

• It may not be generally known that the writer of this letter was propemped on his way as far as Slough, by the Eton cads in a body.

1

Lordship the Bishop of New Zealand, my parting interview, &c., and the many noblemen and gentlemen who had completed their education at Eton under my guidance, I soon taught them to regard me with proper respect. As I had my wife and children on board, I thought it best to represent myself as a deputation from the parent society, which used to come to Windsor when Mr. Selwyn was there, sent to prepare matters for the Bishop, and the attention paid to me by many of the passengers, in the hope that I shall exert my great influence in the colony to their advantage, are both numerous and gratifying.

Nothing could have been more fortunate than the long practising in the victualling line which Wasp enjoyed at Eton under my superintendence. Not knowing what privations I might have to suffer in New Zealand until the unhenlightened natives had had time to appreciate my worth, I thought it but right to keep him up to his work by the practise which the well-stocked preserves on the poop amply afforded.

The gentility of the fare thus obtained fornis an agreeable contrast to the junk and hard biscuit to which the rest of our mess are condemned, and while it adds considerably to my importance in their eyes, the abduction of his live stock makes the steward more willing than ever to pay for my services as ratcatcher.

By these means I have been able to combine pleasure with advantage, as becomes an adept in our art, and have hitherto made the voyage pass agreeably enough. As it is now nearly four months since I left Brocas lane for ever, I am daily expecting to reach New Zealand, the rypeck of my hopes, the scene of my future labours in the good cause. If compelled by necessity for a time to follow the plough, be assured, my old friends, that I will

never lay aside the principles which have always been the pride and support of our profession, and that if ever a second Eton should be founded in New Zealand I will cheerfully devote myself to the performance of those duties which none but an old Etonian like myself can worthily discharge. I hope that before long you will find time to let me know how you are all getting on at Eton. My affection for my old haunts and old comrades is unchanged, and if any of you should ever feel inclined to follow me over the water, you will always be welcome at Kitson House. The captain calls for letters, so with love to all Etonians,

I remain,
Your old chum,

JACK KITSON,

LOVE'S PHILOSOPHY.
See the mountains kiss high heaven,

And the waves clasp one another;
No sister flower would be forgiven

If it disdained its brother ;
And the sun-light clasps the earth,

And the moon-beams kiss the sea ;
What are all these kissings worth,

If thou kiss not me?

Shelley,

AMORIS PHILOSOPHIA.
Altum nonne vides ut osculantur
Montes æthera mutuosque ut undæ
Amplexus geminant ; rosæque junctis
Miscent undique liliis odorem?
En ! circumflua lux bonæ diei
Terram mollitèr ambit-en ! salutat
Lunæ dulce jubar profunda ponti ;
Ah ! tot basia quid valent amanti,
Si tu suaviolum mihi recuses ?

TRANSLATION FROM ANACREON.

Λέγουσιν αι γυναικες

'Ανακρεων γέρων ει, κ, τ, δ.
Ruga, tibi frontem sulcat, — dixere puellæ,

Nec juvenelis adest, qui fuit ante, decor :
1, speculum cape, delapsos et conspice crines,

Et fronte incanam vix superesse comam.
Nil ego, sint fuerintve, moror ; sed ludere novi,

Fas est quo propria mors venit altra pede.

ON HEARING HANDEL'S ANTHEM

"Holy, HOLY," &c. Hear ye that voice, that through the fretted aisle,

As 'were to rouse the energies of prayer, Now softly whispers, and now bursts awhile,

As if a seraph's voice and heart were there ! Can

ye

ecstatic notes so soon be o'er, Too sweet to linger on the chilling earth? Too soon on echo's viewless wings to soar,

And sing in heaven his praise who gave ya birth? Yet hark! that voice-o listen while ye may;

In pity to th' enchanted crowd 'tis given, Still fuller swelling seems in kind delay,

To grant a foretaste of the songs of heaven. Hark! Still that thrilling note is held, and still

In wavy mazes sports the air along, And wandering fetterless where'er it will,

Woos the tall pillars which it floats among 'Tis o'er-but like the meteor's gleam of gold

Borne on the fitful current of the wind, Pathless it speeds; its mystic flight untold,

Sare by the breathless calm it leaves behind. O sing no more! O do not mar the sound;

Thou cans't no beauty round that relic Aing ; O while it floats above this hallowed ground Disturb it not-'tis memory's foster-ling.

A.

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