well as to pitch the tone, so sensible was he of the importance of a
well-regulated voice.

* * * * *



SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS

* * * * *


LINES ON THE DEPARTURE OF EMIGRANTS FOR NEW SOUTH WALES.

BY T. CAMPBELL.


On England's shore I saw a pensive hand,
With sails unfurl'd for earth's remotest strand,
Like children parting from a mother, shed
Tears for the home that could not yield them bread;
Grief mark'd each face receding from the view,
'Twas grief to nature honourably true.
And long, poor wand'rers o'er th' ecliptic deep,
The song that names but home shall bid you weep;
Oft shall ye fold your flocks by stars above
In that far world, and miss the stars ye love;
Oft, when its tuneless birds scream round forlorn,
Regret the lark that gladdens England's morn.
And, giving England's names to distant scenes,