Nerved the young arm and energized the heart.”
A little further on, our ears are tortured with—
“Where Scio’s isle blushes with Christian gore,
And hostile fiends still yell around the shore.”
Well nigh tired of animadversion, let us employ the remainder of this article with selections that will be read with satisfaction, and which may strike some sympathetic and responsive chords. We need not bestow any higher praise upon the following pieces, chosen with care, as by far the best in the volume, (though we will venture to assert that the author considers them the poorest,) than to remark that we consider them worthy of the space they occupy in this magazine.
——
LOSS OF THE FIRST BORN.
“A grief that passeth show.”
I saw a pale young mother, bending o’er
Her first born hope. Its soft blue eyes were closed—