POETRY ".

From the Ladies' .Hagazine

 RETROSPECTION.
My heart is in my childhood's home,

 And by the far-of sunny braes Where musing, once loved to roam, In early youths romantic days. The past-sthe past, the dreamy past, Called up by memory s magic Waiiss, Cleans through the halo round 1t cast, Bright as cen hope's own phantom land. Oh never more in after life,

 Gan hope RseF such dreams impaTt As then with breathing beauty rife,

 Wreathed their soft spells around my

 heart.

 The skies were brighter then than now, More bland the wandering breezes blew, The birds sang sweeter on the bough, The wild flowers wore a richer hue. Ideal forms of classic lore,

 By moss-grown grot and chrystal well, Seemed stiii 10 finger as of yore,

 And fairies danced in every dell. Blither than Elf-land's fabled queen,

 loved the green and laughing earth; While wooded cliff and wild ravine,

 Were echoing to my bosom's mlrth. For care had never dimm'd my brow, Nor friends proved heaftless and untrue: I ne'er had wept loye's broken VOW,

 Nor aught of life $ dark changes knew. Farewell sweet scenes of past delight Slowly ye sink from memory's gaze, Still beaming with reflected light,

 As bathed in twiiightes parting rays. wander on my weary way,

 Unmindful where my lot is cast, Since wheresoe'er my footsteps stray, They cannot lead me to the past.