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As there were none besides us two,

I oft unasked reply,
And meet the laugh in others' looks,
Who judge the reason why!

Í mark another win thy smiles,

Though I a portion share,-
In vain, I strive to choke the sigh,

That instant rises there.
I hear another speak thy name, itabi

And tremble at the tone,
Lest they should in my hearing boast,
Of favours thou hast shown.

I often think thou feel'st my pains,

For when to thee I speak, jaiat sie,
I fancy sighs between thy lips, Bing

And blushes on thy cheek.
Thy eye seems often meeting mine,ius

As though it would reply;
And oft I think thy bosom beats,
To know the reason why.

When absence veils thee from my sigh

Then fancy paints in vain,
And hope's inquiries never cease

When we shall meet again.
Sleep mocks me with thy angel face,

And robs my nights of rest;
And when my dreams are not of thee,

I waken more distrest.

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If with thee, I'm both pleased and sad,

Jf not I'm teased about thee,
Joy, grief, and anguish all are mine,

Or with thee or without thee.
My spirit leaps to be with thee,

Then I wish I ne'er had met thee:-
My thoughts dwell oft on thee with glee,
Then struggle to forget thee.

In no one place save thy esteem,

find a cure,..
And if the like complaint be thine,

The remedy is sure.
So let us both confession make,

And tell our pains together,
Then wintry cares that cloud us'now's

Will soon bring summer weather ***

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My ills can ung

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THE azur

sky wa clear and bright,
The marbled clouds were tinged with light,
And, far and wide, the unruffled deep,
Disturbed, but by the sportive sweep
Of sea birds,-to the horizon spread,
The mind to holy musing led :
Its boundless grandeur seemed to be
An emblem of Eternity !

One lonely ship, from Scotia's land,
A firm, united, suffering band
Of uncomplaining exiles bore
For ever from their native shore :
By poverty compelled to roam,
Their thoughts, their hearts, were still at home!

The sun shone brightly, and the breeze
The canvas scarcely stirred';--at ease
All nature seemed : 'the air was balm,"
The exiles shared the general calm,
And, in the scené around them spread,
Forgot the tears so lately shed.
It was the blest, the hallowed day
Of sacred rest; hut, far away
Their simple kirk in wood-land dell,
They heard no more the well-known bell
That called, through paths to memory dear,
Their friends, God's holy word to hear.
Grouped on the sunny deck they stood ;
Their infants gazing on the flood,
Delighted with the curling foam,
And happy in their floating home.

An aged patriarch rose to pray,
And hail, with joy, the Sabbath day.

Our kirk, my children, is not here,' He said, “but God is every where !

Magnificently spread around, • Behold his works ! could place be found . More fitted to refine and raise “Our thoughts to heaven in prayer and praise?'

Three generations knelt around
Who called him sire : with awe profound,
They heard the deep impressive voice
Which bade them evermore rejoice,'-

Rejoice with trembling ;' saw him raise
His withered hands, in silent praise,

Whilst youthful voices lifted high
Their sweet and sacred melody,
Sudden a cry of anguish dire
Was heard—Fire-fire,--the ship's on fire!'
The sacred word of prayer and praise
Died on each tongue ;-with frantic gaze,
They saw the ascending flame defy
The water swiftly hurled on high,
With strength gigantic !-To and fro
They rushed, alas ! where could they go ?
A dismal heat, foreboding death,
Came stillingly on every breath ;
And many a shuddering mother clasped
Her infant to her breast, and grasped,
In strong despair, some kindred hand
Which shook her off :—the helpless band
Of children on their parents called,
Unheard, for aid :-Brave men appalled,
Turned pale :-Kind bosoms ceased to melt :-
All for themselves one moment felt
One moment only !-Nature's voice
Again was heard, and even from choice
Men struggled hard the friends to save
Who dragged them to a watery grave;-

Gone gone,-we all must die !' they cried,
Yet still their useless labour plied ;
And still masts, shrouds, and sails, and deck,
Blazed fearfully!—The fiery wreck,
Compelled to quit, ' Let down the boat!'
Hoarse voices yelled !-when scarce afloat
'Twas filled with life ; the drowning tried,
Convulsively, to grasp its side,
With disappearing hands :-raised high,
The cry of hopeless agony
Was heard ! the desperate love of life
Increasing in the mortal strife.

The boat o'erladen, lingering near,
Appeared but as a floating bier.
One frantic mother shrieked aloud,

Save, save my child !'-and 'mid the crowd Of oars upraised her infant threw ! 'Twas caught in safety by the crew A wild thanksgiving rent the air ! Her husband then was all her care‘Oh! live my husband, live ! our child • Will need thy aid :-look not so wild :

A vigorous swimmer, thou mayst still ‘Preserve thy precious life !'-' The will • Of God be done,' he said, ' for me I have no fear except for thee.'

One look he cast upon his child,
Unharmed amid the tumult wild:
One on the youthful wife he pressed,
In silence, to his manly breast ;
Then glanced his eager eye around
To seek the good old man :-he found
The spirit of his aged sire
Had risen superior to the fire !
Once more he knelt : (his silver hair
Singed by the flames, his temples bare :)
Cast one paternal look around,
And one upon the depth profound,
The grave prepared for all he loved ; -
Then raised his hands, with faith unmoved,
To heaven, and with a Christian's prayer
Consigned them to their father's care-
Where is the ship ? --where are the crew ?-
Far, far removed from human view!
The exiles from their native shore
Sank, to arise on earth no more.

The ripling waves still silently
Pursued their destined way, though man
Was there no more their course to scan,
The breeze its balmy power retained,
And not a trace of woe remained.

“What is frail man, O Lord, that thou
Should'st mindful of him be,' and bow

Thy gracious ear to every prayer
. He breathes, and make his wants thy care?
Even as the flower that blooms to day,
Fades in to-morrow's sun away,
Man flourishes his little hour,
Goes hence, and is beheld no more.
The tide of human feeling flows
Like that of ocean :-its repose
Awhile disturbed, a calm succeeds :
The lesson man too little heeds,
Or who would risk a moment's strife
For earthly good ? eternal life
Alone deserves the anxious care
We waste on trifles light as air.'

[This poem is founded upon a prose sketch in the Janus; or Edinburgh Literary Almanack, entitled "The Transport.']


A more hackneyed subject than this the most unfortunate candidate for originality can hardly attempt to discuss. Thousands of scribblers have, I believe, vented upon the world their credulities and incredulities concerninz it: some professiug to believe firmly in the existence and appearance of ghosts, and others making such a belief the ally of folly and of ignorance. But to ask two plain questions—why are any of us, full grown in understanding and stature, afraid of such things ? and why have even wise men unhesitatingly asserted their faith in them? "'Tis conscience that makes cowards of us all,' presents by no means a satisfactory solution to hundreds of cases of this description; though, where such a cause exists, we need not philosophise upon its effects. But there is, I think, scarcely an individual to be found who has not felt, at some period of life beyond the age of youth, an actual dread of supernatural appearances, the very idea of which he has, perhaps, at other times ridiculed as mere idle superstition. We can, of course, account, up to a certain stage of the mind's progress, for the terrors of those whose understandings have been early imbued with tales of horror, narrated with all the sincerity of conviction by their ignorant and ill-chosen protectors or companions. But, independently of the influence of early prepossessions, there seems to be in most men a natural fear, or some other kindred sensation, of something unseen, undefined, but yet believed in, because apprehended. My acquaintance is limited; but I have, as yet, conversed with no moral man of cultivated intellect who has not owned a sensation of fear or awe arising from this cause, on some occasion or other, which no argument, founded on unbelief or improbability, could subdue. Some have, considered this fact as affording strong probability; because it is independent of reasonings which might, in various ways, be impugned and overthrown, to shew that there is implanted in us by nature, (as we say in popular terms) a belief in the existence of a future state, and in the proximity to us of its inhabitants. For, it appears, that any thing conducing to present eternity to us, as it were, in a real form, necessarily excites in us feelings correspondent with the condition of our mental attainments. Thus, the boy is terrified at the bare idea of seeing a ghost; the mature, and enlightened mind of the moral man, on certain impressive occasions, contemplates the eternal world and its spiritual occupants with profound awe, not unmixed with painful dread.

There are, I should think, but few who would venture to deny the possibility of apparitions; and, perhaps, as few who could be persuaded to receive, without qualifying their assent, the best authenticated account of such an occurrence. And certainly, the singularly absurd relations of ghosts, by weak or designing men, are almost sufficient to lead us to include all that has been said or proved in support of them in one sweeping charge of falsehood and delusion. My earliest and most distressing fears were on the subject of ghosts. The living were comparatively unheeded by me, whilst the bare thought, in the midst of my youthful pastimes, of the dead, a source of nocturnal disquietude, was sufficient to render them all insipid and even hateful. I was eager, therefore, to avail myself of every argument and opinion denying their earthly visits, and at length, in fact, gained enough of scepticism to allay my terrors, and to render me a tolerably comfortable infidel. But this. unbelief was afterwards much shaken by the following argument, with which

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