A POETICAL REASON FOR THE FRAGRANCE AND
COLOUR OF THE ROSE.

SPEAKING of the singular changes effected in flowers by the transmission of their farina, a lady said she understood that " originally there was but one kind of rose, which was white and nearly scentless. What occasioned," asked she, so beautiful a variety in the species as the red one; and whence did it derive its odour?" The following was immediately written with a pencil:

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To sinless Eve's admiring sight,
The rose expanded snowy white;
When, in an ecstasy of bliss,
She gave the modest flower a kiss;
And instantaneous, lo! it drew
From her red lip its blushing hue!
While from her breath it sweetness found,
And spread new fragrance all around.

THE WHITE ROSE.

PRESENTED BY A YORKIST TO A LADY OF THE HOUSE OF LANCASTER. If this fair rose offend thy sight,

Placed on thy bosom bare,

"Twill blush to find itself less white,

And turn Lancastrian there.

But, if thy ruby lip it spy,

And kiss it thou should'st deign,
With envy pale 'twill lose its dye,
And Yorkist turn again.

ON SEEING MISS AMBROSE WITH AN ORANGE-RIBBON IN HER BREAST, ON KING WILLIAM'S BIRTH-DAY.

THOU little Tory, where's the jest

Of wearing Orange in thy breast,

When that same breast insulting shows
The whiteness of the Rebel Rose?

ON RECEIVING AN ORANGE FROM GRACE LOCKHART,
WHO MARRIED JOHN, THIRD EARL OF ABOYNE,
AND DIED IN 1738.

Now, Priam's son, thou must be mute,
For I can proudly boast with thee;

Thou to the fairest gave the fruit;
The fairest gave the fruit to me.

ALLAN RAMSAY.

L

ADAM AND EVE.

DR. YOUNG, the author of the "Night Thoughts," was once walking in his garden with the lady whom he was wooing and a friend of hers, when a servant came to tell him he was wanted. He was so interested in the conversation in which he was engaged, that he paid no attention to the summons, though urged by the ladies to go. The servant returned and repeated the message; and the ladies then playfully took the Doctor by the arms and pushed him out of the garden. He is said to have turned round and addressed them, especially his lady-love, in these words:

THUS Adam looked when from the garden driven,
And thus disputed orders sent from Heaven :-
Hard was his fate-but mine still more unkind.
His Eve went with him;-but mine stays behind.

ON THE TWO BEAUTIFUL MISSES GUNNING.*

SLY Cupid, perceiving our modern beaux hearts

Were proof to the sharpest and best of his darts,

His power to maintain,-the young urchin grown cunning,—
Has laid down his bow, and now conquers by Gunning.

ON A CERTAIN LADY AT COURT.

I KNOW the thing that's most uncommon;
(Envy, be silent, and attend!)

I know a reasonable woman,

Handsome and witty, yet a friend.

Not warped by passion, awed by rumour,

Not grave through pride, or gay through folly;

An equal mixture of good-humour,

And sensible soft melancholy.

"Has she no faults, then," Envy says, "Sir?"
Yes, she has one, I must aver-

When all the world conspires to praise her,

The woman's deaf, and does not hear.

POPE.

Daughters of John Gunning, Esq., Castle Coote, Ireland. They first appeared at Court in 1751. Horace Walpole declared them to be the handsomest women alive.

TURKISH GALLANTRY.

LADY.

I CAN'T abide you Turkish folk,
Who take your wives by twenty;
In England one is thought no joke,
And numbers find it plenty.

TURKISH AMBASSADOR.

In England, true, this plan may do,
And be as good as any;

But all the charms here seen in you,
We only find in many!

KISSES.

FROM MARTIAL.

COME, Chloe, and give me sweet kisses,
For sweeter sure girl never gave;
But why, in the midst of my blisses,
Do you ask me how many I'd have?

I am not to be stinted in pleasure,
Then, prithee, my charmer, be kind;
For while I love thee above measure,
To numbers I'll ne'er be confined.

Count the bees that on Hybla are playing;
Count the flowers that enamel its fields;
Count the flocks that on Tempe are straying;
Or the grain that rich Sicily yields.

Go, number the stars in the heaven;
Count how many sands on the shore:
When so many kisses you've given,
I still shall be craving for more.

To a heart full of love let me hold thee:
To a heart which, dear Chloe, is thine;
With my arms I'll for ever enfold thee.
And twist round thy form like a vine.

What joy can be greater than this is?
My life on thy lips shall be spent ;
But the swain that can number his kisses,
With few will be ever content.

Translated by the HON. SIR CH. H. WILLIAMS, K. B.

Epigrams.

IN reading authors, when you find
Bright passages that strike your mind,
And which perhaps you may have reason
To think on at another season;

Be not contented with the sight,

But take them down in black and white:
Such a respect is wisely shown;

It makes another's sense one's own.

To have a thing is little if you're not allowed to show it;
And to know a thing is nothing unless others know you know it.
LORD NEAVES.

SENTIMENTAL, MORAL, AND PHILOSOPHICAL.

SACRED.

YOUTH.

THE vernal flower, by early blight
Expires, to bloom again no more;
But youth's fair blossom snatched from sight,
Blooms fairer in a happier shore.

What solace for parental love!

What antidote to dark dismay!

To know life's closing scene shall prove
The herald of eternal day.

THE POSER POSED.

A PEDANT, to perplex a child,

Asked "Where is God?" The pupil smiled,
Embarrassed not a jot;

For God's ubiquity he knew;

So straight replied, "I'll tell, when you
Tell me where He is not."

THE ROAD TO VIRTUE.

LET not soft slumber close your eyes,
Before you've recollected thrice,

The train of action through the day :
Where have my feet chose out their way?
What have I learnt where'er I've been,
From all I've heard, from all I've seen?
What know I more that's worth the knowing?
What have I done that's worth the doing?
What have I sought that I should shun?
What duty have I left undone ?
Or into what new follies run?
These self-inquiries are the road
That leads to virtue, and to God.

WATTS.

THE CHURCH.

THE Church is not yon fabric, wood and stone,
Rear'd by the labourer's toil and builder's art;
The Church is there where God has set his throne,
There where He dwells within the living heart.

ON THE PRICE OF A BIBLE.

'Tis but a folly to rejoice or boast

How small a price thy well-bought purchase cost;
Until thy death thou shalt not fully know

Whether it was a pennyworth or no;

And at that time, believe me, 'twill appear
Extremely cheap or else extremely dear.

FUTURE GLORY.

FAITH, Hope and Love were question'd what they thought
Of future glory, which religion taught:

Now Faith believed it to be firmly true,
And Hope expected so to find it too;

Love answered, smiling with a conscious glow,

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Believe?-Expect? I know it to be so."

JOHN WESLEY.