there.

Oft as the bright dawn breaks
Behind the eastern hill,
Mine eye from slumber wakes,
My heart is with the still--
For thee my latest vows were said,
For thee my earliest prayers are pray'd--
And O! when storms shall lour
Above the swelling sea,
Be it thy shield, in danger's hour,
That I have pray'd for thee.

Whether we consider the purity of its sentiments and the amiable
tone of feeling, or its merit as a musical work, we are induced to
recommend the present volume as an elegant present for a musical
friend, and it will doubtless become a favourite with thousands of
graceful pianists. Thanks to the Muses, our lyrical poetry is rapidly
rising in the literary scale, when such beautiful compositions as
those of Mrs. Hemans and Miss Landon are no sooner written than set
to music.

The _Musical Souvenir_ is embellished with two engravings and a
presentation plate, and bound in crimson silk--so that it has all
the attractions of the annual Christmas presents, except _prose_.

* * * * *

THE KEEPSAKE.

_EDITED BY F.M. REYNOLDS, ESQ._

This is a magnificent affair, and is one of the proud triumphs of
the union of Painting, Engraving, and Literature--to which we took
occasion to allude in a recent number of THE MIRROR. Each department
is _unique_, and the lists are like the Morning Post account of a
drawing room, or Almack's--the princes of the arts, and the peers
of the pen. _Painters_--Lawrence, Howard, Corbould, Westall,
Turner, Landseer, Stephanoff, Chalon, Stothard, &c. _Engravers_--C.
Heath, Finden, Engleheart, Portbury, Wallis, Rolls, Goodyear, &c.
_Contributors_--Scott, Mackintosh, Moore, the Lords Normanby,
Morpeth, Porchester, Holland, Gower, and Nugent; Wordsworth, Southey,
Coleridge, Shelley, Hook, Lockhart, Croker, Mrs. Hemans, and Miss
Landon; and the cost of the whole _eleven thousand guineas!_ Of
course, such a book has not been the work of a day, month, or,
perhaps, a year; and its literature entitles it to a permanent place
in the library, where we hope to see it stand _auro perennius_;
were its fate to be otherwise, we should condemn the public--for we
hate ingratitude in every shape--and write in the first page the
epitaph--_For, O, for, O, the hobby-horse is forgot_. A guinea to
twopence--Hyperion to a Satyr--how can we extend the fame of _The
Keepsake!_

We cannot particularize the engravings; but they