FOR THE ENQUIRER. THE BRIDE-THE MIGRANTS FARE WELL-AN ACROSTIC.
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THE BRIDE-THE MIGRANTS FARE

 WELL-AN ACROSTIC. Home, home, sweet home, a long adieu, Oh! with regret I'm leaving you; My much loved home of early years, Fen now more dear to me appears. Father! but ah the funeral knel, And closing tomb spoke thy farewell; Though thou art number'd with the dead, Hope throws a halo round thy bed; Eternal happiness be thine,

 Removed from all the ills of time. Mother but tongne can never speak, Oh! language is by far too weak; The sigh, the parting kiss the tear, Have more than power of language here; Each early tie in sunder nven, Removed-yet may we meet tin heaven. Brother! go where fortune wills, Removed from these my native hills, On wings of hope, and plumed with gold, To that famed garden of the world; Hence must go-and trust that you, Ere years shall roll will follow too, Renew each severed tie and bid fareweN--adeu. Sister! it is with deepest pain may no more with you remain. So soon are past those early days, Those scenes of youth those childhood plays. Endeared by every tender tie, Reluctantly bid good bye. c.