112 SELECT POETRY

* A rose’s brief, bright life of joy,
Such unto him was given ;
Go—thou must play alone, my boy—
Thy brother is in heaven !”

«* And has he left the birds and flowers,
And must I call in vain ;
And through the long, tong summer hours,
Will he not come again P

« And by the brook, and in the glade,
Are all our wanderings o’er ?
Oh! while my brother with me played,
Would I had loved him more!”
Mrs. Hemans.

on’

OUR ENGLISH HOME.

Ox! who would leave our happy land,
Where peace and plenty dwell,

To roam upon a foreign strand,
Whose wonders travellers tell ?

The orange sheds its sweet perfume
Beneath Hispania’s! skies ;

But we've the apple’s ruddy bloom
The orchard’s rich supplies !

The cocoa and the date-tree spread
Their boughs in India’s clime ;

The yellow mango hangs o’erhead,
And stately grows the lime;

? Hispania—Spain.