A MAIDEN'S DREAM.

One day beneath a leafy shade,
Reclined a young and lovely maid;
The sun, tho' sinking, still was high,
And brightly shining in the sky :
High o'er her head the branches waved,
And whispered to the passing gale;
Close at her feet a streamlet laved,
And babbled forth its endless tale;
With busy hum the bee flew by,
And eke the painted butterfly.
'Twas such a day as those, I ween,
In paradise e'er sin had been,-

Heaven smiled on earth, and earth, bedight
In blooming verdure, look'd delight;
The maiden gazed with eye of tender
Calm dreamy joy on all around,
And, fancy free, she did extend her
Vision beyond all mortal bound.-
She look'd on earth, and fancied there
A thousand shapes and shadows fair;
She look'd on heaven, each silv'ry cloud
Was fashioned in fantastic beauty,
And bore upon its bosom proud,

Bright forms on their celestial duty,
Bound floating o'er that arch of blue,
All human deeds and things to view.-
As o'er her ken such fancies past

In endless train and countless number, They lull'd her spirit, till at last

Her eyelids clos'd in gentlest slumber.
Yet the same scene beheld she still,
Or wood, or water, dale or hill,
All came to her sleep-gilded sight
In hues still lovelier and more bright.
Sleep seem'd as it had done away
The dimness of this veil of clay,
And shed o'er all a purer day.
Amid the clouds that speck'd the breast
Of heaven, was one above the rest,

That in etherial brightness shone,
Clothed with a glory all its own;
Awhile hovered o'er her head,
Then sank beside her grassy bed;
And from his vap'ry pillow sprung
A creature beautiful and young.
His eye was of heaven's deepest blue,
His glossy locks dropp'd fragrant dew;
Fresh beauty sparkled in his face,
His form was loveliness and grace.
Oh! ne'er was bless'd her waking sight
With such an image of delight.
He held within his heavenly hand,
A white and radiant pearly band;
It shone not with a quivering light,
But pour'd a splendor mild tho' bright;
The eye that saw. it drank its ray,
And gazed as though 'twould gaze for aye.
He oped his lips, and forth there brake,
Words of sweet sound,

And, whispering music while he spake,
Low breathed around

"This, maiden, is the richest boon

That heaven on mortals can bestow, Clasp it around thee, and full soon

Thou shalt its blissful influence know;
These gems were gathered from those caves,
Far, far, beneath the ocean's waves,
Where, bound in endless silence, sleep
Th' unfathom'd waters of the deep;
No storms that ever lash its breast,
Can break their everlasting rest,
There all unmoved and still they lie
The same thro' an infinity

Of years gone by, and years to come,
Before that dreadful day of doom,
When from its orbit forth shall swing
This world erratic, and shall fling
Off from its sphere, in flashing spray,
Its waters on that awful day;-
Clasp it around thee-thou shalt see

Him whom thou lovest, Iove but thee
With heart unchanging, warm, and pure,
And love that ever shall endure:
Oh! think thy best ambition won,
That to his world thou art the sun;
So will I on thy pathway shower,
The holiest influence of my power.
My name is Love-and, bless'd by me,
This is the zone of constancy;
Clasp it around thee, it shall bless
Thy days with peace and happiness,
And thou in days of age shalt see
Thine own-a beauteous progeny,
With filial love before thee bow,
pure,
as beautiful, as thou.
And when thine earthly date is o'er,
On glittering pinions shalt thou soar,
To yon bright world that shines afar,
Up high in heaven the evening star;
And lighted on its golden shore,
Shalt dwell in bliss, for evermore."
The maiden wak'd-but nought was there,
Gone was the vision-gone-ah! where?
The brook was rippling-and the breeze
Was rustling thro' the lofty trees,-
Nought saw she save the clouds on high,
Slow sweeping o'er the dark blue sky;
The sun just sinking o'er the fell,

As

Who blushing bade the world farewell;

And throned on sunbeams in the ruddy west,

Shining, a queen in heaven, that evening planet blest.

TO LITTLE MARY.

Laugh on, laugh on, thou darling child,
Let grief not shade thy brow;

And may thy laughter be as wild,
For ever wild as now:

And may thy heart, as now it is,
Be cheerful, light, and gay;
Light as the zephyr, cheerful as
The flowers that bloom in May.
But ah! it cannot be, the time
Must come, when thou wilt know
What 'tis to find a fancied friend,
A deep deceitful foe.

And see the hopes, the hopes of youth,
Sink down into the tomb;

Like rainbows fading soon as form'd,
Or flowers cut down in bloom.

Though, ere thy tongue could lisp his name,
Thy sire was snatch'd away;

And fortune smiles not on thee now,

As she did yesterday;

Laugh on, for there is One above,

Who will protect and bless

The widow'd mother's orphan child,

The infant fatherless.

K.

THE EVIL EYE.

There is a superstition very current among the Moors, that some people, particularly old or ugly ones, have a power of what they call Fixing the evil eye upon you." The eye of the serpent is not more dreaded by the bird than is this evil eye by the Moors;-" one of whom," says Captain Beauclerk, when he was at Tangiers, "was suffering from the withering effects of this spell. He had fallen in love with an old woman's daughter; but meeting another, in whom more charms were centered, he was induced to forsake his first love, and marry his second; since which time, the old woman has," he says "fixed the evil eye' on him, and the poor man is gradually pining away, a prey to his own fear." Other nations are visited by the supposed influence of the "evil eye." In Ireland, children are carefully watched on particular days, lest they should be visited by its keen scrutiny.

P.

MORTALITY OF INFANTS.

[The following article is one in which every female is so much interested, that we feel infinite pleasure in extending its circulation. We are indebted for it to "The Companion to the Almanack;" one of the most useful publications of the day. We earnestly entreat all parents and nurses to well consider the important truths it contains.]

Before the introduction of vaccine inoculation, more than a fourth of the children who were born in London, died, before they had attained their second year. The proportion for 1827 was between a fourth and fifth, the numbers christened being 29,925, and those dying thus prematurely 6,580. This, we regret to observe, is an increase upon the returns of seven years earlier, 1820, by which it appears that a fifth so perished. The numbers fluctuate; and the cause may, perhaps, be attributed to the prevalence of fevers and other contagious diseases at particular seasons. Upon an average of years, it would appear that about a fifth of the children, born in the metropolis, die before two years of age.

It is certainly not intended by nature, that so large a proportion of the young of the human race should be thus cut off from life. The infancy of man is, indeed, a tender and helpless period, and one which requires the exercise of the most watchful care on the part of the mother. But the evils which naturally belong to it are infinitely aggravated by injudicious management-by unnatural methods of feeding and clothing -by the neglect of a due attention to cleanliness and exercise. From the moment that a child is born, a system of mismanagement begins, which, fortunately, it is now the earnest endeavour of medical men to reprove; but which still exists in almost all cases where the mother is either herself weak and ignorant, or surrenders her judgment to weak and ignorant nurses. We shall point out the chief of these evils, and offer, as we go along, a few hints for the adoption of a more reasonable course.

The first process which nurses were accustomed to pursue with a new-born child, (and which many still continue,) was to wash it, even in winter, with cold water. Spirits have been sometimes mixed with the water, or rubbed over after