and if we take an enlarged view of the structure of the globe,
we may admit this to be the fact,--but the admission requires
certain limitations.--Bakewell.


* * * * *


NIOBE.

(_For the Mirror._)


Hush'd are the groans of death, heart-piercing sound,
That mournful rose in peals on peals around;
Child after child by heav'nly darts expires,
And frequent corses feed the gloomy pyres.
Aghast she stands!--now here in wild amaze--
Now there the mother casts her madd'ning gaze:
In fixedness of grief, in dumb despair,
Her looks, her mien, her inmost soul declare:
Her looks, her mien, her deep-sunk anguish show
With all the silent eloquence of woe.

See! from her cheek the rosy lustre flies;
How dim the beams that sparkled in her eyes.
No more so softly heaves the throbbing breast;
The purple currents in their channels rest;--
No more the Zephyr's balmy breath can wave
The graceful locks which laughing Hebe gave;--