THE CHANGES OF TIME.

I dreamt, in Fancy's joyous day,

That every passing month was May;

But Reason told me to remember,

And now, alas! they're all December!

The only memorial of the death of Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, remaining at Kirkby Moorside (where he died in obscurity and distress,) is an entry in an old register of burials, which runs thus: "1687, April 17th, Gorges Villus, Lord dook of bookingham."—Ellis Correspondence.

Had we not lov'd so dearly,

Had we not lov'd sincerely,

Had vows been never plighted,

Our hopes had ne'er been blighted,

Dearest.

Had we met in younger days,

Had we fled each other's gaze,

Oh had we never spoken,

Our hearts had ne'er been broken,

Dearest.

Had you not look'd so kindly,

Had I not lov'd so blindly,

No pain 'twould be to sever,

As now we may for ever,

Dearest.

If yet you love sincerely,

The one who loves you dearly,

Then let the sigh betoken,

Love for a heart you've broken,

Dearest.