Not without renown was I,
In the ranks of gallantry.
Now, when Love no more will call,
To battle; on this sacred wall,
Venus, where her statue stands,
To hang my arms, and lute commands;
Here the bright torch to hang, and bars,
Which wag'd so oft loud midnight wars.

But, O blessed Cyprian queen!
Blest in Memphian bow'rs serene,
Raise high the lash, and Chloe's be,
All e'er proud Chloe dealt to me!

W.P.

* * * * *




Arcana of Science.

* * * * *

_Smoke of Lamps._

A recent number of Gill's "Technical Repository," contains a simple mode
of consuming the smoke that ascends from the turner of an argand lamp. It