-- "I had hoped that our parting was more distant, my Emmeline," said the old man with a smile; "but I will not be selfish ;" a tear glistened in the smile as he continued, "had I sought, throughout the world, a husband for my daughter, I may proudly say, that on Morven Fitzgerald would have fallen my choice!" www. THE TRIBUTE MONEY. I. HILL. SEE, how devoid of selfishness He stands, Is Candour-doubly so, to Meekness wed! F There is no tome from which so many a truth Conviction, comfort shine, a star-lit Heaven! Each but a point, and yet a saving guide! Take tribute of me, Monarch of my earth! But set Thy name, my Father, on this soul, And when 'tis rendered back-sullied, defaced- To share the radiance of Thy throne above! WAR SCENES. BY SIR AUBREY DE VERE HUNT, BART. -I PASSED The gate of a temple: it was thronged with maidens, Worn out with famine doubtless-but still lovely! And there they sat, and sang, and wept, and told Sad stories, and wept again. I saw, In an open hall, an old man of four-score By his daughter fed on their last loaf-their last! The cool spring draught from his faint, dying mother, * We soldiers Have but hard hearts at best; yet there was one That moved my pity deeply-a poor female ;- Tears started, and she turned unto her child, E'en the last word I uttered. There was about her And knew it, and a something that denoted Of sallow winter had crept upon her roses, And hunger made her soft cheek hollow and wan. Despair and sensibility soon sever— Squalid had grown her dress-her breast was bare, That infant's fount of life and only pillow: |