Hogg's Instructor,

Bentley's Miscellany,

From the German of Karl Gutzkow, 31

Blackwood's Magazine, .

49

THE LITTLE STRAW HAT.

thrill,

For it seems like a shadow of days passed o'er,
Of the bright one who that hat once wore.

'Tis a dear little hat, for each simple braid

Tells that oft o'er its plaiting those fingers played,

And many a wreath for its crown hath been

twined,

To the grateful taste of his youthful mind.

Yes; there silent it hangs with its curling front,

Still as playfully rolled as had been its wont ;

But the golden ringlets which waved below

Have curled their last clusters long ago.

Ay, the hat is the same, but it shades no more

Those light blue eyes as in days of yore;

And the sun-lit smile that danced o'er that brow,

Can but light up our hearts' sad memories now.

Sad memories they are; o'er their quivering

strings

Each breath of the by-gone a tremor flings,

And joys that we fain would waken again,

In memory are wreathed with a thrill of pain.

Then recall not the past-though the dimpled

hand

May never again clasp the braided strand,

Though the breeze no longer may bear the tone

Of the ringing laughter of childhood's own.

Ah! think of him now, with a glittering crown

O'er his heavenly forehead resting down,

While his fingers stray o'er the golden wire,

That blends with his voice 'mid the cherub choir.

Ay, I see him now with the holy light

Pouring broad on his brow with radiance bright,

From Punch.

ACTIVITY IN THE ROYAL DOCKYARDS.

BY AN EYE-WITNESS.

I STOOD in Portsmouth, on the Dockyard ground,

And looked about for industry's display;

But when of work I did not hear the sound,

I thought, of course, it was a holiday.

I was mistaken; things pursued their course

According to the customary track;

I saw nine men uniting all their force

To move what one might carry on his back.

I saw four stalwart fellows, tall and stout,

Who with their arms compactly folded stood,

Looking at one, who, as he stared about,

Morticed-by fits and starts a bit of wood.

saw two brawny men with feeble blows

I

An iron hoop upon some timber drive;

And when 't was on- for practice, I suppose -

To take it off again they did contrive.

I saw four others working at a mast;

But their pursuit I scarce had time to con,

When I perceived with admiration vast

Nine more at the proceeding looking on.

I saw two horses drag a single stone;

At scarce two miles an hour their pace I fix,

Though by one horse the job could have been

done-

Not at two miles an hour, but five or six.
Yet Portsmouth boasts, they say, a model yard;
We've heard that story many a time and oft ;

But he who henceforth thinks they 're working

hard

At Portsmouth Dockyard, will be precious soft.