bute verses to the periodicals.

DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE BIRDS ARE SINGING?

Do you know what the birds are singing?
Can you tell their sweet refrains,
When the green arch'd woods are ringing
With a thousand swelling strains?
To the sad they sing of sadness,
To the blythe, of mirth and glee,
And to me, in my fond love's gladness,
They sing alone of thee!
They sing alone of thee, love,
Of thee, through the whole day long,
And each its own dear charm extols,
And each with its own sweet song!

Do you know what the soft winds whisper
When they sigh through blooming trees--
When each bough is a choral lisper
Of the woodland melodies?
To some they seem to be grieving
For the summer's short-lived glee;
But to me they are always weaving
Sweet songs in praise of thee!
Sweet songs in praise of thee, love,
And telling the flowers below,
How far thy charms outshine them all,
Though brightly their soft leaves glow!

Do you know what the streamlet trilleth
As it glides or leaps along,
While the cool green nook it filleth
With the gushes of its song?
Do you think it sings its dreaming
Of its distant home, the sea?
Oh, no, but the voice of its streaming
Is still of thee, of thee!
Is still of thee, of thee, love,
Till echoes and woodland fays--
Yea, Nature all is eloquent
And vocal in thy praise.

AN HOUR WITH AN OLD LOVE.

Lat me look into thy face, Jeanie,
As I 've look'd in days gane by,
When you gae me kiss for kiss, Jeanie,
And answer'd sigh for sigh;
When in our youth's first flame, Jeanie,
Although poor and lane together,
We had wealth in our ain love, Jeanie,
And were a' to ane anither!

Oh, blessin's on thy lips, Jeanie,
They ance were dear to me,
As the honey-savour'd blossoms
To the nectar-hunting bee!
It kens whar dwalls the banquets
O' the sweetest dewy wine--
And as the chosen flower to it,
Sae were thy lips to mine.

I see thy very thochts, Jeanie,
Deep in thy clear blue e'e,
As ye 'll see the silver fishes flash,
When ye sail the midnicht sea;
And ye needna close the lids, Jeanie,
Though the thochts they are nae mine,
For I see there 's nae repentant ane,
That they ance were sae la