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. MELANCHOLY SUICIDE.

,. STABBING A POLICEMAN.

. AN EXTRAORDINARY CIRCUMSTANCE.

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- diKEftii. NEWS. .

¡OUli 091$IttUS.

A NEW POEM.

I Mil. LAKKlN8.'

-I ILONDO IM MARKETS., I'

AGENTS FOR THE MONMOUTHSHIRE…

ELLEN'S SORROWS.

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ELLEN'S SORROWS. 11 Man's misery declares him born for btiM Our heads, our hearts, our passions, and our powers Sptjuk. the s*uie language call us to the skies nripened f/itwt" in tliifi inclement clime, And for tlits land of triiles those too strong, Tumultous rise, and tempest human life."âYot.sa. LEAVE ber, lpave her; let her weep, There are griefs that lie too deep, For the o'erfraught heart to steep ⢠III "forgetfulness or sleep." As the wild wind stirs the strings Of the jEollan harp, which brii.js >oul-subduing murmuringi, Sweet as when a syren sings, Thus the heart's frail strings are stirred By a cold or careless word, Though to mortal ear unheard The vibration of that chord. But the heart thus finely strung, Is with anguish soonest wrung Deeper grief hath from it sprung, Holier rapture round it clung. Who can solve the mystery Of its intense misery ? Or its tearful sympathy, Gushing forth spontaneously? Who bath framed the heart and biain, And the cisterns they containâ Wove each fine, electric chain, Fraught with ecstacy and pain ? Who hath organised the whoJe- Powers, which grasp from pole to pole, Feelings, whose supreme control Thrill like pulses through the soul ? Whence its joy or mental pain ? Love, contempt, delight, disdain, Passions, which alternate reign, Over reason's wide domain ? Whence the pang, the sigh, the blush- Whence bewildering griefs that rush O'er the fount whence warm tears gush, Finest energies to crush ? Ask not why these gifts were given ? Why the heart with grief was riven? Why the spirit thus hath striven? âTis to mould the soul for heaven Sorrows hath, perchance, defined Master touches on that mindâ Nobler aims within it shrinedâ Hopes etherealised, refined. Quelled its passion and its pride, Idols, once p'rhaps deified, i Are for ever flung aside, And the temple purified. Oh, believe me, sorrow brings Pearls from out her crystal springs, Through she veils all earthly things, With her dark imaginings. Who can tell how pure and fair All her aspirations arc, Or what grandeur lingers where Hope hath grappled with despair. 'Tis in deep vicissitude Patience, faith, and fortitude, Gain their loftiest altitude, And shine forth with magnitude. True, the throbbing brain may burn, And the heart may sometimes yearn;" But its sunshine shall return, W hen submission it shall learn.. ⢠Oh, then, let the mourner share Thy best sympathy and prayer And in mercy kindly spare Probing wounds intiicted there. Banks of the Ebbw, November, 18.t7, MARIANNE.

Setting tfjc erap at the ©ffirets.

'CONfiiaBiON OF WILLIAM ALLNUI'T,

ANOTHER POISONING CASE AT…