THE SERENADE.

"There's glory in the morning,

Flush'd with its golden light;
There's glory in the noon-tide,

When waters sparkle bright;
But night, all still and solemn,
Is dearer far to me,
For then, all else forsaken,
I hasten, Love, to thee!

"There's shade upon the fountain,
And on the deep green vale;
And breath of folded flowerets
Floats on the sighing gale;
Night rests upon the mountain,
And on the dark'ning sea;
While the still world is sleeping,
Come forth, my Love, to me!

"The fair young moon of summer
Sinks down behind the hills,

I count the pulse-like echoes

Of ever-murmuring rills;

But all is sad and dreary

If THEE I may not see,
Come forth the morning breaketh—
I live, my Love, for THEE."

S. S.-VOL. II.

And she, the maiden-listening from above,
Yields she her faith to this fond tale of love?
Aye does she! with a trust as pure and true,
As ever shone in eyes of heaven's own blue!
Aye does she! with an innocence of truth
As fervent as e'er warm'd the soul of youth!
Heart, name, and fortune, hope, and beauty bright,

ALL would she give, and deem the offering light;

She knows no doubt; how should she, being truth?

How could suspicion blight her joyous youth?

She deems not love a jest, an empty play,

A toy to charm man's lagging hours away;
And shall not he, to whom her love is given,
Esteem the gift the richest boon of heaven?

F

21

Alas! that cold experience should destroy,
With boding voice, a maiden's dream of joy!
Man's psssion, fair one, is not like the love
That in thine own pure breast doth live and move;
The gallant loves thee, e'en as man can prove
The sacred flame that owns the name of love;
Nought of thy constancy, thy lasting truth,
Hath he, the flatterer of thy first, rich youth;
Thy beauty lures him; let it pass away,

And with it passeth his admiring lay.

Choose thee a lover worthy of the name,

Whose love will last when thy young charms shall wane;

A lover who will love thee for thyself,

Not for thy beauty, or thy store of pelf.

Beauty will fade, and gold may pass away,

But there are charms which never know decay;

Seek THOU for such; Faith, Hope, and Love be thine;
These change not; are not earthly, but divine.

THE SOIRÉ E.

THE SOIRÉE! In the days of our grandmothers we must have explained such a title, or have been satisfied to send our readers to their French dictionaries! Happily, however, the friendly feeling which has of late years subsisted between France and England, has induced between them a frequency and intimacy of intercourse, which has rendered each country familiar with the social habits of the other. We say happily; for while it cannot be doubted, that the established system of national manners in England, founded as it is on sound moral and religious principles, offers, in many most important points of view, much which other European countries might imitate with advantage; it is no less certain, that from the general vivacity and sociability of our French neighbours, and from their comparative emancipation from the fetters of the cold and forbidding code of etiquette which, in all but the highest ranks of our society, prevails among ourselves, we, the sons and daughters of England, may glean some valuable lessons. As it respects the conventional forms of social intercourse, we have already profited by their example. The SOIRÉE is now as well arranged in England as in France; and it is matter of satisfaction to reflect, that while we have adopted the ease and sprightliness which constitute the charm of French society, we have avoided the evils which sometimes attend those valuable elements of social enjoyment. The SOIRÉE is now, as it ought to be, a pic-nic, towards the agréments of which, all who