THE VINE--A FRAGMENT.

(_For the Mirror_.)


See o'er the wall, the white-leav'd cluster-vine
Shoots its redundant tendrils; and doth seem,
Like the untam'd enthusiast's glowing heart,
Ready to clasp, with an abundant love,
All nature in its arms!

C. COLE.

* * * * *




THE COSMOPOLITE.

* * * * *


ON LIBERTY.


"I don't hate the world, but I laugh at it;
for none but fools can be in earnest about a trifle."