ON A GIRL SLEEPING.
Thou liv'st! yet how profoundly deep
The silence of thy tranquil sleep!
Like death it almost seems:
So all unbroke the sighs which flow
From thy calm breast of spotless snow,
Like music heard in dreams.
Thy soul is filled with gentle thought,
Unto its shrine by angels brought
From Heaven's supreme abode;
Thy dreams are not of earthly things,
But, borne upon Religion's wings,
They lift thee up to God.
Blackwood's Magazine.
A species of fames canina is to be met with amongst schoolboys, which affects the juveniles most when most in health. We remember a gentleman offering a wager, that a boy taken promiscuously from any of the public charity-schools, should, five minutes after his dinner, eat a pound of beef-steaks.—Brande's Jour.