THE PORTRAIT: AN EXTRACT.
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BY J. c. PERCIyAL. As tlidse blue eyes upon the canvass throw Their watery giances to me, where the tear Seems gathering to starry drop, to flow Down the soft damask of her cheek, hear From her moved lips, voice salute my ear, That was so kind and so con6ding; pain; Which once did throb within me, ncw doth

 veer

 To calm stillness the delirious brain Seems By cool drops renewed to life's young bliss again.

 An. I would then that pictured form could Of hours that once were happy in the round Of thought still growing, as at each new

 walk,

 With deeper hue the early bud is found, Till it unfold it's leaves, and scatter round It's purest incense; so our lives steal by, Catching new loves and hopes, which, close 1 ly wound

 With every blended thought and wish, will try --.-.zz.z-s.z. The heart to it's last throb, when loved ones

 leave or dies