Silence Gives Consent.

O Friendship! Thou Fond Soother Of The Human Breast, To Thee We Fly In Every Calamity; To Thee The Wretched Seek For Succor; On Thee The Care-tired Son Of Misery Fondly Relies; From Thy Kind Assistance The Unfortunate Always Hopes Relief, And May Be Sure Of--disappointment.

The Whitewash'd Wall, The Nicely Sanded Floor, The Varnish'd Clock That Click'd Behind The Door; The Chest, Contriv'd A Double Debt To Pay,- A Bed By Night, A Chest Of Drawers By Day.

Is It That Nature, Attentive To The Preservation Of Mankind, Increases Our Wishes To Live, While She Lessens Our Enjoyments, And As She Robs The Senses Of Every Pleasure, Equips Imag-ination In The Spoil?

The Very Pink Of Perfection.

But Times Are Alter'd; Trade's Unfeeling Train Usurp The Land, And Dispossess The Swain; Along The Lawn, Where Scatter'd Hamlets Rose, Unwieldy Wealth And Cumbrous Pomp Repose.