nely fountains:--and the birds
That sang in the blue glow of heaven, the trees
That whisper'd like a timid maiden's lips,
The bees that kiss'd their bride-flow'rs into sleep,
All breath'd the spell of that enchanting lay!

Whence came it now? perchance from yonder dell,
O'er which the skies, in sunny beauty fix'd,
Their sapphire mantle hang. Its Eden home
Is in some beauteous place where faces beam
In loveliness and joy! To hail the morn,
The infant pours it from his rosy mouth,
Ere, o'er the fields, with blissful heart he roams,
To watch the syren lark, or mark the sun
Surround with golden light the rainbow clouds.

That music-lay awak'd within my heart
Thoughts, that had wept themselves to death, like clouds
In summer hours.--It brought before mine eyes
The haunts so often worshipped, the forms
Revealing heav'n and holiness in vain.
Alas, sweet lay, the freshness of the heart
Is wasted, like an unfed stream, away;
And dreams of Home, by Fancy treasurd up,
Remain as wrecks around the tomb of Being!

REGINALD AUGUSTINE.
_Deal_.

* * * * *

TYRE.

(_For the Mirror_.)

"And I will cause the noise of thy songs to cease, and the sound of thy
harps shall be no more heard"--_Ezekiel_, chap. xxvi. verse 13.

"It shall be a place for the spreading of nets in the midst of the sea."
_Ezekiel_, chap xxvi. verse 5.

Thy harps are silent, mighty one!
Thy melody no more:
For ocean's mourning dirge alone
Breaks on thy rocky shore.

The fisher there his net has spread,
Thy prophecy to show;
Nor dreams he that thy doom was read,
Two thousand years ago.

On Chebar's banks the captive seer,
Thy future ruin told:
Visions of woe, how true and clear,
With power divine unroll'd!

The tall ship there no more is riding,
Of Lebanon's proud cedars made;
But the wild waves ne'er cease their chiding,
Where Tyre's past pomp and splendour fade.

The traveller to thy desert shore
No cherish'd record found of thee;
But fragments rude are scatter'd o'er
Thy dreary land's blank misery.

The sounds of busy life were hush'd,
But still the moaning blast,
That o'er the rocky barrier rush'd,
Sang wildly as it pass'd:--
Spirit of Time, thine echoes woke,
And thus the mighty Genius spoke:--

"Seek no more, seek no more,
Splendour past and glories o'er,
Here bleak