aste; while the Nautilus' evening song
Sweet on the breeze is swelling.

Up with the sail! for the earliest boat
Lies 'neath the world of waters
Ceased is the wild harmonious note
That melody's soul first taught us.[2]
Over the sea
The wind blows free,
The spray in the air is hurl'd:
Clouds in the wave
Their bosoms lave;
Then quick be our sail unfurl'd,
Haste ye, my brothers, ere night comes on,
Over the world of waters:
Sing to high heaven, the mellow song
The Nautilus' note first taught us.

W. PEARCE.

[2] The Nautilus, or Sailor-shell, is said to be the origin of
Music and Navigation.

* * * * *

PARAPHRASE ON BISHOP HEBER'S PICTURE OF HUMAN LIFE.

(_For the Mirror_.)

Life, like a mighty river, bears us on
A rapid tide, we ne'er can rest upon,
Adown the narrow stream, at first, we glide
Thro' fruits and flowers that fringe the grassy side.
The playful murmurings of its windings seem
Soft, as the far-off music of a dream,
Over our heads the trees their blossoms shed,
Flowers on the brink their mingled odours shed.
Beauty around, above us, Hope within;
Eager we grasp each dazzling charm to win.
But hurried on and on, we ne'er can stay
Our little bark to anchor or delay.
For now, how full, how deep, how vast the river
On which we glide, that stays its journey never!
As rolling years bring with them joy and woe,
Dark, and more various, seems our voyage to grow.
Buoyant we ride on waves of hope and joy,
Down, down, we sink, when earthly cares annoy!
Futile and vain, alike each hope or fear
On, on, we glide, there is no resting here.
For far behind is left each joy and woe,
The mighty river ne'er will cease to flow!
And, rough and smooth, it hastens to its home,
Glides by each futile hope and pleasure gone.
Until within our ears the ocean roars,
And the bleak billows break upon the shores;
Beneath our keel the bounding waves arise,
And the land lessens from our aching eyes.
The floods of "Time's wide ocean" round us swell,
Earth take of us thy long and last farewell!
For witness of our _future voyage_ there's none
But _He_, the Infinite, Eternal One!

_Kirton Lindsey_. ANNIE R.

* * * * *

ON VEILS.

(_To the Editor of the Mirror_.)

In No. 385, of the MIRROR, one of your Corr