From an English paper.
{"newspaper_name": "The Wilmingtonian, and Delaware register.", "edition": "01", "page": "p1", "byline": ""}
"Seyerer woes my spirit steep,
weep not as used to weep;
The tear bede S my check no more
But lives within my hearts warm core;
What though it may not reach the eye,
1t thrills my frame with agony;
And though the sigh may be rcprcss'd
1t swells within my aching breast"
oh Christian! are they cherished there,
The food of anguish and despair
And is not life too frail and brief
For time to feed on social grief
Hast thou no duties to pursue'
No sacred claim before thy view
No task appointed for the day,
That hours may thus be mourned away
| No prcparatio for the morrow,
To steal one passing pang from sorrow
| No fellow-creature to bciriend,
That thus life's interests seem to endi
No good to do-no hope to cheer
That, wan and lone, thou lingcrest here'
Is nought of blessing to thee given
| No home on earth-no trust i'll heaven!
Oh! ifthose holy hopes, on thee
Have poured their sacred agency,
And ifthou hast soul to feel


The rnercies which such hopes reveal,


However dark thy path may be,
With this worlds passing misery
Go and be faithful-murmur not
Over the sorrows Of thy lot;


But, meelsly happy, kiss the rod.


All grateful that thou hast a God;


And let all earthly grief be still,


In the high aim to do his will;


All fear, all doubt, all woe discard,


And he will be thy "s9eat rc,card"


MISS Roscoe, of Liverpool, Enslan