Sleeps the old woodland through midsummer night! Its leafy arches, spreading far away, Are still, and silvered by the pale moonlight, From gnarled branch unto the tiniest spray. O'er the soft moss-beds, by the streamlet's sheen, And o'er the greensward, are the folded flowers; A heaven of azure o'er the beauteous scene, Doth watch the gliding of serenest hours. The moon smiles fair upon the greenwood glade, The red lips of the rose new fragrance shed, And stealing forth, in radiant robes arrayed, What sprites are those that merry measures tread? These are the revels of the Fairyland-- It is Titania and her gentle band! O'ER BLEAK ACADIA'S PLAINS. RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED TO MRS. L. B. GURLEY. BY CLARK GADDIS. O'er bleak Acadia's plains, where blow From arctic piles an icy breath, And earth is wrapped in shrouds of snow, As if that earth lay cold in death, I roam, as strangers sadly roam-- For every step its distance lends From those, the cherished ones at home, And constant friends. Still fondly in my breast I wear (And kindly every feeling glows) The images of clear ones, where The loved at home in peace repose: From distant lands, where'er I roam, To thee my heart still fondly tends, My mother, sisters, brother, home, And constant friends. Ye are the sunshine on my path, Dispelling gloom amid the shade; Though hope that led my boyhood, hath All withered or all been betrayed; Still ye are true! where'er I roam I know for me the prayer ascends From those, the cherished ones at home, And constant friends. THE LIFE OF MAN. BY C****. As rosy light in eastern skies Gives hope to all of bright sunrise; As floweret lays its petal bare And sheds its fragrance on the air; As babbling rill 'neath greenwood trees Wends on its way to distant seas; As comet in its rapid flight Across the azure vault of night-- Thus runs the mortal life of man. When on his infant form we gaze, Sweet Hope shines bright upon his days; With tott'ring steps he treads the ground And sheds his joyousness around, Till, wending on through smiles and tears, He meets the sea in manhood's years; Then, for a moment flashing bright, Is lost fore'er to mortal sight-- And his eternal life's began. Then breaks to him another day, In which eternal sunbeams play. As the sweet floweret fades and dies, At Spring's soft summons will arise; As babbling rill, lost in the main, Returns again in gentle rain; As comet, when it disappears, Will glow again in after years; Man may be lost to mortal eye, The Spirit Man will never die. * * * * * BRAIDED SLIPPER. [Illustration] OUR PRACTICAL DRESS INSTRUCTOR. A LADY'S WALKING-DRESS.