whether he had a mind to be a member, told them, " No, gentlemen, it is impossible; you see I have a mole on my upper lip; and I am subject to talk in my sleep."

censure.

Public Favor.

Public favor is not less capricious than private friendship. It is a bird of passage, lost as soon as found; now in the moon, perhaps; now underground. He whom the voice of the public unites to praise, the public voice will conspire to

Epitaph by a man on his wife.
Two of my bones have taken a trip,
My rib is departed, and so is my hyp.

From the French.

While Harry one day was abusing the sex,

As things that in courtship but studied to vex,

And in marriage but sought to enthrall

'Never mind him,' says Kate-' 't is a family whim—

His father agreed so exactly with him,
That he never would marry at all.'

EPIGRAM ON SOPHOCLES.

From the Greek.

STILL round the tomb of Sophocles divine
With gentle feet shall verdant ivy twine;
Still to his tomb the laden bee repair,
And pour the honey of Hymettus there;
Far richer sweets his varied pages show-
Time cannot fade the garland on his brow. M. W.

SELCTED POETRY.

PORTUGUESE HYMN TO THE VIRGIN MARY, "the Star of the Sea."

BY JOHN LEYDEN.

STAR of the wide and pathless sea,
Who lov'st on mariners to shine, ·
These votive garments wet to thee

We hang, within thy holy, shrine;
When o'er us flashed the surging brine,
Amid the warring waters tost,

We called no other name but thine,
And hoped when other hope was lost.

Ave Maris Stella!

Star of the vast and howling main,

When dark and lone is all the sky, And mountain-waves o'er ocean's plain, Erect their stormy heads on high: When virgins for their true loves sigh, They raise their weeping eyes to thee;

The star of ocean heeds their cry, And saves the foundering bark at sea.

Ave Maris Stella!

Star of the dark and stormy sea,

When wrecking tempests round us rave, Thy gentle virgin form we see

Bright rising o'er the hoary wave.

The howling storms that seem to crave Their victims, sink in music sweet;

The surging seas recede to pave The path beneath thy glistening feet.

Ave Maris Stella!

Star of the desart waters wild,
Who pitying hears the seaman's cry,
The God of mercy, as a child,

On that chaste bosom loves to lie;

While soft the chorus of the sky Their hymns of tender mercy sing,

And angel voices name on high, The mother of the heavenly King.

Ave Maris Stella!

Star of the deep! at that blest name
The waves sleep silent round the keel,
The tempests wild their fury tame

That made the deep's foundation reel ;
The soft celestial accents steal
So soothing through the realms of woe,
The newly damned a respite feel
From torture, in the depths below.

Ave Maris Stella!

Star of the mild and placid seas,

Whom rainbow rays of mercy crown,
Whose name thy faithful Portuguese

O'er all that to the depths go down,
With hymns of grateful transport own :
When gathering clouds obscure their light,
And heaven assumes an awful frown,
The star of ocean glitters bright.

Ave Maris Stella !

Star of the deep! when angel's lyres
To hymn thy holy name essay,
In vain a mortal harp aspires

To mingle in the mighty lay! Mother of God! one living ray Of hope our grateful bosoms fires,

When storms and tempests pass away, To join the bright immortal quires.

Ave Maris Stella!

The blythest bird quits fairest bowers,
Mang thorns to build its nest;

And blooming spring time's boniest flowers,
Are nurst on winter's breast.
M. W.

EPIGRAM,

(From the Greek) attributed to the emperor Trajan, and said to be made upon one of his courtiers.

WITH your mouth on a gape, if you'd but place your nose Oppos'd to the sun for a trial,

As on your huge grinders its shadow it throws,
I'd swear you would make a good dial.

EPIGRAM.

Anecdote of Bonnel Thornton versified.
POOR Bonnel, at'noon when just rising from bed,
Was caught by his aunt, who a homily read
On the duties of man in this stage of probation,

M. W.

And winds it up thus, with more home application : "O you'll shorten your days by these sinful delights." "True," Bonnel replied, "but I'll lengthen my nights." M. W.

MR. EDITOR,

Enclosed are versifications of four articles from the "Budget of Wit," which, with three or four others in reserve, are very much at your service.

Yours,

INDOLENCE.

Friends of the Union.

AMONGST the men, what dire divisions rise!
For "union" one, and one " no union," cries.
Shame on the sex, that such dispute began!
Ladies are all for union-to a man.

Miss Flint.

"THERE goes the beautiful Miss Flint,
Gallanted by a dashing buck ;—

Pray, who is he?"" It is, no doubt,
A spark, that she has lately struck."

EPIGRAMS.

Thelwall's Repartee.

WHEN Thelwall was tried for high breach of the laws,
He whisper'd his counsel, I'll plead my own cause."

"If you do, you'll be hanged," muttered Erskine, "that's

true."

Quick Thelwall replied, "I'll be hanged if I do."

The Chaplain's Toast. LORD Clive had invited a party to dine;

The cloth was removed, and round went the wine :

Mirth and wit ruled the hours, when the good humored host From the chaplain, in turn, requested a toast. The parson, embarrassed, exclaiming to Clive, "Alas! and alack-a-day! what shall I give ?" Clive, filling his glass, cried, "A fine toast I think it ; 'A LASS, and a LACK* a-day !—who would not drink it ?”

* A lack of rupees is £100,000 sterling.