The Sun.
London, England, 1849-01-27 00:00:00

" TLIEItE IS NOTIILNG IN VAIN.

" We may question the locust that darkens the land,
And the snake, flinging arrows of death from its eye;
But remember they come from the Infinite Hand,
And shall man in his littleness dare to ask why?
Oh 1 let us not speak of the "useless" or " vile,"
They may sauna so to us—but be slow to arraign:
From the savage won's cry to the happy child's smile, i
From the mite to the mammoth there's nothing n
vain."

Similar in spirit are two beautiful poems, " Let not
the Sun go down upon your Wrath," and " He that
is without Sin among you let him first cast a Stone."
Some of the stanzas in this volume have been occa-
sioned by recent political events, such as the " Song
to the Potpie of England," and "There's a hero in
the South"—

" All honour to the Pope,
Long life ard fame to Pius,
The world's heart still may hope,
While such as he stand by

And again the lines " To Alphonse de Laraartine"-
-" The gentle poet, one
With heart all mercy, and with speech all truth,
Whose lays we love to hear at set of sun,
Breathed by some happy maid, or dreaming youth."
Some of the most exquisite verses in this collection
are those which may be entitled songs of the affec-
tions. These are fraught with such a depth of ten-
derness and such unaffected simplicity, that their
charm is irresistible. One of the best of these is
entitled " Don't you Remember ?" The chief effect
of this piece is produced by the repetition at the end
of every verse of the momentous question—e. g. :
" We return to the spot where our lufaney gambolled,
We linger once more in the haunts of our youth,
We re-tread where young Passion first stealthily rambled,
And whispers are heard full of Nature and Truth,
Saying, Don't you Remember ?'
" Praise carved on the marble is often deceiving,
The gazo of the stranger is all it may claim,
But the strongest of love and the purest of grieving
Are heard when lips dwell on the missing one's name,
Saying, Don't you remember?'"
The most beautiful of these songs of the affections is,
however, suggested by "An Old 'rune"—it is one of
those touches of nature which makes the whole world
kin. With this quotation we, for the present, take
leave of this popular poetess, whose greatest praise is
due to her right appreciation of that title.

" AN OLD TUNE.
To C. C.

" Dost thou remember whLn we roved in Summer's
glowing prime,
While Friendship's sscred bells rung out a soft and
merry chime ?
DOA thou rem, mber where we stood beneath the old
elm Loughs,
With laughing speech upon our lips and mirth upon our
brows?
Dust thou remember sieging there, in wild and fitful

tone,
A melody of bygone days—one of sweet Nature's own?
Dust thou remember, Ludy, when the topmost leaf was

green,
Hushing the ring-dove overhead with 'Jock o' Hazel•

dean?' "
" Oh, little didst thou know the sp(11 that old tune had
r me,
A mist came o'er the bro::d blue air, a dimness round

the tree,
I knew the branch was sjll as bright, I knew the sky
was clear,
But I was breathing through a sigh and gazing through
a tear.
That old tune brought a busy crowd of shadows to my
side,
It flung a narrow flood-gate back that let in Memory's
tide.
Quick visions came upon my heart of all that once had
been,
When other lips enchained my ear with Jock o'
FlazYl-
dean.'