GREECE.

And fame her light is pouring still,
Not on the living, but the dead!
But 'tis the dim sepulchral light
Which sheds a faint and feeble ray,
As moon-beams on the brow of night,
When tempests sweep upon their way.

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Where science raised her sacred fane,
Its summit peering to the sky;
Upon thy clime the midnight deep
Of ignorance hath brooded long;
And in the tomb, forgotten, sleep
The sons of science and of song.

Thy sun hath set, the evening storm
Hath passed in giant fury by,
To blast the beauty of thy form,
And spread its pall upon thy sky:

Gone is thy glory's diadem,

And freedom never more shall cease

To pour her mournful requiem

O'er blighted, lost, degraded Greece!

THE CORAL GROVE.

BY J. G. PERCIVAL.

DEEP in the wave is a coral grove,
Where the purple mullet and goldfish rove,
Where the sea-flower spreads its leaves of blue,
That never are wet with falling dew,

But in bright and changeful beauty shine,
Far down in the green and glassy brine,
The floor is of sand like the mountain drift,
And the pearl-shells spangle the flinty snow;
From coral rocks the sea-plants lift

Their boughs, where the tides and billows flow; The water is calm and still below,

For the winds and the waves are absent there, And the sands are bright as the stars that glow In the motionless fields of upper air:

There, with its waving blade of green,

The sea-flag streams through the silent water, And the crimson leaf of the dulse is seen

To blush like a banner bathed in slaughter:

There, with a light and easy motion,

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THE CORAL GROVE.

The fan-coral sweeps through the clear deep sea

And the yellow and scarlet tufts of ocean

Are bending like corn on the upland lea: And life, in rare and beautiful forms,

Is sporting amid those bowers of stone, And is safe, when the wrathful Spirit of storms, Has made the top of the waves his own: And when the ship from his fury flies,

Where the myriad voices of Ocean roar, When the wind-god frowns in the murky skies, And demons are waiting the wreck on shore; Then, far below, in the peaceful sea,

The purple mullet and goldfish rove, Where the waters murmur tranquilly,

Through the bending twigs of the coral grove.

SCENE AFTER A SUMMER SHOWER.

BY A. NORTON.

THE rain is o'er. How dense and bright
Yon pearly clouds reposing lie !
Cloud above cloud, a glorious sight,
Contrasting with the dark blue sky!

In grateful silence, earth receives
The general blessing; fresh and fair,
Each flower expands its little leaves,
As glad the common joy to share.

The softened sunbeams pour around
A fairy light, uncertain, pale;
The wind flows cool; the scented ground
Is breathing odours on the gale.

Mid yon rich clouds' voluptuous pile,

Methinks some spirit of the air

Might rest to gaze below awhile,

Then turn to bathe and revel there.