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COUNTY COURT, ABERYSTWYTH.…

PETTY SESSIONS, ABERYSTWYTH.I

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TYRANNY OVER THE UNEMPLOYED.

. THE LATE GALE.

---LITERARY INSTITUTE AND…

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Variety. t —t

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ro THE EDITOR OF THE ABERYSTWYTH…

I TUUS AMOR—A PPEM OF SIMILES.(j…

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I TUUS AMOR—A PPEM OF SIMILES. ( j IF I could fitly sing thy love j With well adapted simile, 1 I'd choose the bright blue sky above, Or the calm bosom of the sea,— The one void of the storm-wind's track, The other free from rain-cloud's black. But failing, I'll compare thy love With many other loves that be, And by my similes will prove They equal not the love of thee,— That which thou dost so kindly give To one so dear that he may live. Some loves are merely passion-born, And Time soon dulls them with his haze, But thine looks down with quiet scorn On fickle passion's transient blaze, For thine is constant, faithful, kind, And changes not with every wind. Some loves are, snow-like, pure and white, But also, snow-Hke, cold and chill; Thine is the sunny ripple bright, Perpetual on the woodland rill That whirling leaves the purling spring And skims the rocks with merry ring. Some loves are like dissolving rime, Or, rainbow-like, at times bright-hued Thy love is never dim'd by time, But brighter glows the more 'tis viewed, And keeps unspotted purity When beams or rains dpscend from high. Some loves grow up ciconia-wise, 'Neath gentle sun, and soon decay But thine, bedewed by azure skies, Throws wider shadows day by day, And in the noonday's fervent grade I, weary wanderer, seek its shade. Some loves, like leafless forest trees, Are shadeless when the snow-storm comes; But thine fears not, when winter's breeze Will blast its leaves and yielding blooms, For, when the leaves and flowers are gone. The berries bright still cluster on. Some loves are like the highland lakes, Unruffled in their silent glen Thine, like the winding stream that slakes One's thirst and cheers the eyes of men, Can satisfy the happy heart Of him to whom thou dost impart. Some loves like lamps throw light afar, And then burn out, and all is dark But thine's the bright, bright northern star, That guides me and my wandering barque Into the desired haven blest Of blissful joy and peaceful rest. PHILELPIS.

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