tenderness and parental affection; and some Stanzas, for our admiration
of which we have not an epithet at hand, so we give the original.



ON BURNING A PACKET OF LETTERS.

_By A.A. Watts, Esq._


Relics of love, and life's enchanted spring,
Of hopes born, rainbow-like, of smiles and tears:--
With trembling hand do I unloose the string,
Twined round the records of my youthful years.

Yet why preserve memorials of a dream,
Too bitter-sweet to breathe of aught but pain!
Why court fond memory for a fitful gleam
Of faded bliss, that cannot bloom again!

The thoughts and feelings these sad relics bring
Back on my heart, I would not now recall:--
Since gentler ties around its pulses cling,
Shall spells less hallowed hold them still in thrall!

Can withered hopes that never came to flower
Match with affections long and dearly tried
Love, that has lived through many a stormy hour,
Through good and ill,--and time and change defied!