God speed thee, beauteous book, in thy pathway to fame! Oh, may thy life be long, and cherished be thy name! Deem not my humble song one-half thy charms could tell, E'en if I were a bard of some romantic dell; Yet can I sing thy praise in my own humble way: Sweet friend of lonely days, despise not thou my lay. Long may thy coming be welcomed by young and old, As, gathering round the hearth, they do thy leaves unfold! Dressed in thy wintry garb, or in thy summer sheen, Yet beautiful art thou, our literary queen. Bright are the smiles thou bring'st unto the humble cot, Our lonely hours to cheer, to ease our humble lot. Oh, may'st thou ever be admired as thou art now, Kind wishes thee attend, and laurel wreath thy brow! THERESA. * * * * * BEDCHAMBER OF THE EMPRESS EUGENIE OF FRANCE.--The upholsterers have furnished it a magnificent sky-blue silk _tenture_ along the walls, which is fixed by gold frames, in the style of Louis XV. The arm-chairs, chairs, sofas, and lounges are of the same style and like silk. As for the bed, all made with gilt carved wood, it is covered with a _couvre pieds_ of Maline lace, and the curtains, of blue silk and lace, are hung down all around it, in the same manner as the old beds of our grandmothers. The carpet is also of a blue color, and so thick that one would take it for a bear skin. It was made at Aubusson, expressly for the place in which it lays. The ceiling of the room was painted by Mr. Bresson, and it represents a group of geniuses throwing flowers from rich baskets. The painting is so well done that no one could believe that the figures are not alive. In short, this magnificent bedroom is the _ne plus ultra_ of riches and elegance. Well, this is all well enough in its way; but who would not prefer being plain Mrs. Smith or Mrs. Godey, or any other Mrs.--never being certain, for a moment, when your husband goes out, that he is not to be shot at. Even if you want to go and pay a friendly visit only one or two squares off, you must wait until six horses are harnessed up, a body of cavalry dressed and mounted, the streets cleared of the crowd, and a host of other little etceteras. Dear me, we should soon be tired of royalty! * * * * *