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. THE COMING SPRING.

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THE COMING SPRING. AWAY, away, ye wintry winds, Nor idly loitering stay, I long to see the smiling spring Chase these rude storms away: I m weary of the silent gloom That meets me everywhere, And fain would see a brighter sky, And breath a balmier air. My weary soul pines to behold Fair Flora's stores again,- The violets blue and primrose pale, With all their smiling train: While in the leafless cheerless grove, I long to hear once more, The wild sweet messengers of Spring, Their tuneful welcome pour. Stern Winter long hath held his sway, And earth looks cold and drear, While scarce a verdant spot remains The distant hills to cheer: Yet in the shrubbery walks I see, Amidst the cheerless gloom, Nurtured by these keen wintry storms, Some gentle snowdrops bloom. Sweet messengers of early Spring, They blossom forth alone, Amidst the sleety, piercing gales That round them rudely moan; Methinks that we should love them more Than any flowers that bloom, For sure the pale sweet snowdrops come To deck stern Winter's tomb. EMILY STEpggKS

Iva

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. HOUSE OF LORDS.—FRIDAY.

. HOUSE OF COMMONS.—FRIDAY.

NEW SPIRITUAL

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SONG OF THE EVENING STAR.

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