AMUEL D. PATTERSON.

Oh! take me back again, mother, to that home I love so well,
Whose memory rules my fluttering heart with a mysterious spell:
I think of it when lying on my weary couch of pain,
And I feel that I am dying, mother--Oh! take me home again!

They tell me that this sunny clime strength to the wasted brings,
And the zephyr's balmy breezes come with healing on their wings;
But to me the sun's rich glow is naught--the perfumed air is vain--
For I know that I am dying--Oh! then, take me home again!

I long to find myself once more beside the little stream
That courses through our valley green, of which I often dream:
I fancy that a cooling draught from that sweet fount I drain--
It stills the fever of my blood--Oh! take me home again!

And then I lie and ponder, as I feel my life decline,
On the happy days that there I spent when health and strength were mine;
When I climbed the mountain-side, and roved the valley and the plain,
And my bosom never knew a pang of sorrow or of pain.

And when the sun was sinking in the far and glowing west,
I came and sat me by thy side, or nestled in thy breast,
And heard thy gentle words of love, and listened to the strain
Of thy sweet favorite evening hymn--Oh! take me home again!

How bright and joyous was my life! Night brought refreshing rest,
And morning's dawn awakened naught but rapture in my breast:
Now, sad and languid, weak and faint, I seek, but seek in vain,
To lay me down in soft repose--Oh! take me home again!

The hand of death is laid upon thy child's devoted head--
I feel its damp and chilling touch, so cold, so full of dread--
It palsies every nerve of mine--it freezes every vein--
Oh! take me then, dear mother--Oh! take me home again!

There, with my wan brow lying on thy fond and faithful breast,
Let me calmly wait the summons that calls me to my rest:
And when the struggle's o'er, mother--the parting throe of pain--
Thou'lt joy to know thy daughter saw her own loved home again!

A WRITTEN LEAF OF MEMORY.

BY FANNY LEE.

Poor Fanny Layton! Oh! how well I remember the last time I ever saw
her! 'Twas in the dear old church whither from early childhood my
footsteps were bent. What feelings of holy awe and reverence crept
into my heart as I gazed, with eyes in which saddened tears were
welling, upon the sacred