The body's foe, the heart's annoy and cause of pleasures rare
The sickness of the mind and fountain of unrest,
The gulf of guile, the pit of pain, of grief the hollow chest;
A fiery frost, a flame that frozen is with ice,
A heavy burden light to bear, a virtue fraught with vice;
It is a worldlike peace, a safety seeing dread,
A deep despair annexed to hope, a fancy that is fed,
Sweet poison for his taste, a port Charybdis like,
A Scylla for his safety, though a lion that is meek.

TURBERVILLE.

* * * * *

KISSING.

O kiss! which dost those ruddy gems impart,
Or gems, or fruits, of new found Paradise;
Breathing all bliss and sweet'ning to the heart;
Teaching dumb lips a nobler exercise.
O kiss! which souls, ev'n souls, together ties
By links of love, and only nature's art;
How fain would I paint thee to all men's eyes.
Or of thy gifts, at least, shade out some part.
But she forbids, with blushing words, she says,
She builds her fame on higher-seated praise;
But my heart burns, I cannot silent be.
Then since (dear life,) you fain would have me peace,
And I mad with delight want wit to cease,
Stop you my mouth, with still, still kissing me.

SIR P. SIDNEY.

* * * * *

HEALTH.

The common ingredients of health and long life are
Great temp'rance, open air,
Easy labour, little care.

IBID.

* * * * *

SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS.

ARRIVAL AT MARGATE.

_From "The Monthly Club" of Sharpe's London Magazine_.

The buildings of Margate now became evident, and every minute developed
some new feature in the landscape; all the party abandoned their sitting
to enjoy the view. The curved pier painted pea green and covered with
Cockneys, now was disclosed to our eyes, and my old friend from Leicester
was again staggered into a profound silence, by being told that a row of
houses with a windmill at the end of it, was _Buenos Ayres_. I saw his
amazement, but he did not betray his ignorance in speech as the French
actress did, who was in London some years since, and when dining on the
Adelphi Terrace was shown Waterloo Bridge. After gazing at it, with a
degree of pathos, partly national and partly theatrical, she heaved a sigh
for the brave fellows who had perished in the neighbourhood, and feelingly
inquired whereabouts the farm of _Haye Saint_ w