And when the last great day shall come,
Eternity their joyful home.

To my young niece, Miss SERENE F

who sent

me a watch-piece, on which was painted an ele

gant basket of fruit, bestrewed with beautiful flowers; around it were these lines:

"This basket I fill, and present it to you,

For whom my affection is ardent and true:"

THE fruit which in your basket came,

Though artificial, dear;

In taste, in fragrance, and in name,
The sweetest of the year.

With feelings grateful, tender, warm,
Your off'ring was receiv'd;

Which to my heart convey'd a charm-
A cordial that reliev'd

A heart which oft hath bled to see,
And feel, what no one knows,
But him, dear girl, who gives to thee,
A respite of his woes.

The voice of friendship, what more sweet!
The coldest blood it thrills!-

Winds round despair's forlorn retreat,
Beset with human ills-

F

Wooing the wand'rer to return,
And taste of bliss awhile;
Joy in his breast begins to burn.....
It lightens in a smile!

But ah! dear lovely maid, beware,
advance in years;

As you

False friendship is a deadly snare→→
A crocodile in tears!

For under that suspicious name,

And in her garb is found,

Death to the fair one's spotless fame-
A more than mortal wound!

And while you paint these fruits and flow'rs, As nature is pourtray'd,

Never forget those coming hours,

When all on earth must fade.

E'en that fair hand thy pencil guides,

Must wither and decay;

E'en that warm heart, where heav'n resides, Must be as cold as clay.

May all

your life be like your name—

SERENE, and calm, and clear;

And may your death be like the same

But far remov'd the year.

To the Memory of Brig. Gen. ZEBULON MONTCOMERY PIRE, who fell at the capture of Little York, U. C. April 27, 1813.

IF ever angels, from the blissful skies, Look down on imortals with benignant eyes, 'I'is when the brave repose in heav'n their trust, Whose cause is righteous, and whose views are just; 'Tis on the hero, who, when duty calls, O'er death triumphant, nobly fights and falls; If ever grief intrudes on heav'nly bliss, 'Tis when such scenes occur-a sight like this; A scene which caus'd our sorrowing hearts to swell, When Pike so recently in battle fell.

Lov'd by all ranks, rever'd wherever known,

His name a terror to his foes alone:

In whom the virtues all were scen to blend,
In war an enemy, in peace a friend;
Offspring of honor, valor's fav'rite child,

Calm, but determined-spirited, but mild;
Stern, though not haughty; affable, tho' grave;
Politely resolute, humanely brave;

In discipline not cruelly severe;

His soldiers lov'd him with a filial fear;
Prompt to their needs of what to each belongs,
Just to their rights-attentive to their wrongs;
He knew the spirit of the man to save-
To lead the soldier, not to drive the slave ;-

T'infuse that valor, which himself possess'd, Through all his ranks-in ev'ry private's breast.

In early youth his country's arms he bore, When the drear western wilds he travers'd o'er; In early youth he caught the patriot's flame, And planted laurels in the field of fame; The growth luxuriant, subsequently spread, And twin'd, as if by instinct, round his head; Though now in death the warrior's corse lies low, On his moist grave perpetual wreaths shall grow; Year after year reflourish and be scen To wear a livelier hue, a brighter green.

INDEPENDENCE.

AN ODE-1816.

I.

TWICE twenty years have roll'd away,
Since on this memorable day,

Was INDEPENDENCE born;

The child of heav'n-of earth the joy,
Whom no base Herod could destroy,

Though feeble and forlorn.

II.

Its strength hath increas'd with its years, till behold, A giant-Collossus it stands;

A statue like those which were worshipp'd of old, When gods were the work of men's hands:

statue, though spirit and life it containsBreathes, speaks in a language well known, "From all other nations, to you it belongs To cherish my blessings-alone :"

"To you, Americans, I give

Man's equal rights to share;

And be those rights, or die, or live,

Your ever constant care."

Is the temple-on its walls Sculptur'd are those deeds in story, Which renown immortal calls.

VI.

And when Britania lately sought, again
To bind our nation, with a tenfold chain-
With all the pow'rs of Europe on her side,
To her indebted, and with her allied-
While native savages-internal foes,
With murder, treason, and rebellion rose-