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COMING TO TOWN, AND OPENING…

•p. , °PENING OP PARLIAMENT.

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! THS INTERRUPTED BRIDAL.

IRON TRADE IN FRANCE.

[No title]

MADAME DEKAXMTENON.

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ORANGE MEETING IN DUBLIN.

POLICE.

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iMterrllatty. --;-)

IMITATION OF THE NINTH ODE…

WHAT IS THAT, MOTHER ?

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WHAT IS THAT, MOTHER ? â vVhat is that, mother ? â¢r. Tlie lark, my child! ftitwrn, has but just looked out and smiled, en he starts from his humble grassy nest, A/i 1Si!lp au4 aw.ay, with the dew on his breast, nU a hymn in his heart to yon pure bright sphere, xo warble it out in his Maker's ear.â iVr'er, my child, be thy morn's first lays Tuned, like the lark's, to thy Maker's praise. What is that, mother ? The dove, my 8011 And that low sweet voice, like a widow's moan, Is flowing out from her gentle breast, Constant and pure, by that lonely nest, As the wave is poured from some crystal urn or his distant dear one's quick returnâ Ever, my son, be thou like the dove. In friendship as faithtuh as constant in love. What is that, mother ? u The eagle, boy! Proudly careering his course of joy Firm oil his mountain vigour reiving, BceastLng the dark storm, the red bolt defying; His wing on the wind, and his eye on the sun, He swerves not a hair, 'out bears onward, right on.- Roy, may the cote's flight ever be thine, Onward and -upward, and true to the line. What is thr.c mother? The swan, my love! l*e 'a floating down from his native grove. 1.0 loved one now, no nestline nigh. He is floating down by himself to die Death darkens his eye, and unpluines his wings, Yet the sweetest song is the last he sings.â Live so, my love, that when death shall come, Swan-like and sweet, it may waft thee home!

THE FKORFCR USFC OF THS avft.-..

©!jt itonDflit Ølarketø.