THE MOTHERS GRAVE.
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Look, sister sweet, upon the halow'd stone! We stand upon spot of love and fear; For there is laid heart, the tondest one, That ever left its children weeping here There sleeps our mother in the silent dust By all our sorrow, all our love unmoved; Sleeps, fill the solemn summons of the just Bids her awake and meet the God she loved. saw her fainting on her bed of pain; Isaw her like the leaves of autumn lie; saw her strive to smile, but strive m vain And then Tho, dared not see her die! Then came the bitter pageant of the grave The fearful hearse, the following, weeping crowd saw-twas but one look--the plunage wave, And long to slumber with her in her shroud. Thou King of kings, who on the babes didst smile, And take the little ones upon thy knee, Guide us through earth, and all its snares, awhile Then take us, innocent, to rest with thee! Sweet sister, bend no more on earth thine eyes, No more weep idly on that silent stone; But fix thy gaze, thy sou upon the skies There shall we go, for there our mothers gone From the Museum, of Foreign Literature S Science.

 THE THINGS THAT CHANGE. Know'st thou that seas are sweeping

 Where domes and towers have been? When the clear wave IS sleeping,

 Those piles may yet be seen; Far down below the glossy ude, Mans dwellings where his voice hath dled Enow'st thou that aocks are feeding

 Above the tombs of old, Which kings, their armies leading,

 Have !ipger'd to behold short smooth greensward Der them spread, Ts aII that marks where heroes bled. Know'st thou, thai now the token

 Of cities once renown'd, Is but some pillar broken,

 Wixh grass and wall-fowers croWnd' While the lone serpent rears her young Where the triumptssn.9yre hath runs Well, we'll know the story

 Of ages pass'd away, And the monrnful wreeks that glory

 Hath left to dull decay; But thou hast yet tale to learn, More full of warnings, sad and stern' Thy pcnsive eye but ranges

 Through rnin'd fane and hall-- Oh! the deep soul hath changes

 More sorrowful than all! Talk not while these before thee throng, Of silence in the place of song. See Scorn, where Love hath pcrish'd.

 Dstrust, where Friendship grew; Pride. where once Nature cherish'd

 All tender thoughts and true; And shadows of oblivion thrown Der every trace ofidoisgone. Grieye not for tombs far-scatter'd,

 For temples prostrate lald; In thine own heart he slaterd

 The atars 1t had made Go. sound its depths in doubt and iear- Heap up no more its treasures here! f'H'

 From ths some.