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Now frowning, smiling, for the hundredth time,
The nurse, that ancient lady, preached decorum ;
And in the lustre of her youth, she gave
Her hand with her heart in it, to Francesco.

Great was the joy; but at the bridal feast,
When all sat down, the bride was wanting there.
Nor was she to be found! Her father cried,
""Tis but to make a trial of our love!"

And fill'd his glass to all; but his hand shook,
And soon from guest to guest the panic spread.
'Twas but that instant she had left Francesco,
Laughing and looking back, and flying still,
Her ivory-tooth imprinted on his finger.
But now, alas! she was not to be found;
Nor from that hour could any thing be guess'd
But that she was not! Weary of his life,
Francesco flew to Venice, and forthwith
Flung it away in battle with the Turk.

Orsini lived, and long mightst thou have seen
An old man wandering as in quest of something,
Something he could not find—he knew not what.
When he was gone, the house remain'd awhile
Silent and tenantless-then went to strangers.

Full fifty years were pass'd, and all forgot,
When on an idle day, a day of search

'Mid the old lumber in the gallery,

That mouldering chest was noticed; and 'twas said

By one as young, as thoughtless as Ginevra,
Why not remove it from its lurking-place ?"
'Twas done as soon as said; but on the way
It burst, it fell; and lo, a skeleton,

With here and there a pearl, an emerald-stone,

A golden clasp, clasping a shred of gold!
All else had perish'd-save a nuptial ring,
And a small seal, her mother's legacy,
Engraven with a name, the name of both,
"Ginevra!" There then had she found a grave!
Within that chest had she conceal'd herself,
Fluttering with joy, the happiest of the happy,
When a spring-lock that lay in ambush there,
Fastened her down for ever.

ROGERS.

New Year's Day in Paris 1.

SINCE first the sun upon us shone,

A

year succeeds the year that's gone,
This day by universal law

So great, we'll try to draw,
Without a single flaw,

That all who see the sketch may say,
This surely must be New Year's Day.

No sooner day begins to break,
Than all Parisians are awake,

The bells of every story ring:
Here some one calls to bring
Some very pretty thing,

1 In Paris the practice of making visits-not without a present-on New Year's Day-every body to every body-on any or no pretext, is universal and compulsory. The Parisians are beginning to get quite restive under this heavy tax on their purses, patience, and good manners.

Some only visits come to pay-
This surely must be New Year's Day.

As early as the sun's first light,
Solette, who has not slept all night,

Gets up for all her gifts!-ah, ha!-Here comes a thimble from mamma, And here six francs from dear papa, From grandma, books to make her prayThis surely must be New Year's Day.

The banker early in the morn,
Brings gems, his Chloris to adorn;

His clerk, though not so rich, takes care
To bring some present rare

Unto his lady fair;

And so he puts his watch away-
This surely must be New Year's Day.

To some we haste, when we've no doubt,
That when we call they will be out,
At once to the concierge we go:
"What not at home then!'

"Alas! you vex me so!"

“No,”

We leave our names and walk away

This surely must be New Year's Day.

Now friends grown cool are cool no more, But seem as hearty as before,

The method is not dear-a pound

Of sugar plums is found,

For many a social wound,

The best of remedies they say,

And such they give on New Year's Day.

To yonder man direct your eyes,

Who ever bargains-never buys,

Takes down-hooks up-peeps here, peeps there,

With such such a solemn air,

Now hurries off elsewhere,

That he the self-same game may play

This surely must be New Year's Day.

Now nephews who'd inherit all,
Upon their uncle love to call;
To see him well is their delight;
But with his wealth in sight,
They hug him;—oh, so tight!
They almost squeeze his life away-
This surely must be New Year's Day.

The tender swain who does not care
To buy fine trinkets for his fair,

At Christmas time, to save expense,
For coolness finds pretence;
His love will recommence

Next month-till then he stops away
This surely must be New Year's Day.

When all the handsome things are said,
And wishes utter'd, presents made,
Each visitor goes home at last;
And when an hour has past,
Mourns money spent too fast,
And time and trouble thrown away-
Yes, surely this is New Year's Day.

193

Puns.

My little dears, who learn to read, pray early learn

to shun

That very silly thing indeed which people call a

pun:

Read Entick's rules, and 'twill be found how simple an offence

It is to make the self-same sound afford a double

sense.

For instance, ale may make you ail, your aunt an ant may kill,

You in a vale may buy a veil, and Bill may pay the

bill,

Or if to France your bark you steer, at Dover, it

may be,

A peer appears upon the pier, who blind still goes

to sea.

Thus one might say, when to a treat good friends accept our greeting,

'Tis meet that men who meet to eat should eat their meat when meeting;

Brawn on the board's no bore indeed, although from boar prepared;

Nor can the fowl, on which we feed, foul feeding be declared.

Thus one ripe fruit may be a pear, and yet be pared

again,

And still be one which seemeth rare until we do ex

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