Who dare to love their COUNTRY, and be poor.
—The Grotto, has, however, crumbled to the dilapidations of time, and the pious thefts of visiters; but, proud are we to reflect that the poetry of the great genius who dictated its erection—LIVES; and his fame is untarnished by the canting reproach of the critics of our time. True it is that the best, or ripest fruit, is always most pecked at.
FAIRY SONG.
(For the Mirror.)
Slowly o’er the mountain’s brow
Rosy light is dawning;
See! the stars are fading now
In the beam of morning.
Yonder soft approaching ray