a gentle (yet oh! how eloquent) sigh, and the low beating of her heart, audible in the stillness. Aye! and if you look into her eyes you will see there a music more soul-subduing than the softest strains. At length your hands will meet, and with a strange, delicious thrill through your whole frame, she will sink yielding on your bosom, and then—and then, God bless me! I’ve been thinking of the way I used to make love, and forgot all about the clam-bake. As the heap’s empty and the bottle drained I’ll stop, but since you all beg for it, I’ll give you, some of these days, my notions on making love, egad! And now here’s Robin—hip, ho, we’re off. * * * * * THE SUMMER NIGHT. ARRANGED FROM A GERMAN AIR FOR THE PIANO FORTE. Presented to Graham’s Magazine, by J. G. Osbourn. [Illustration: musical score] The moon’s brightly beaming, love, Still waters gleaming; Wake from thy dreaming, love, List to my lay. Long, long, at twilight hour, From yon lone distant bow’r, Sadly I watch thy tow’r, Fading away. Long, long, at twilight hour, From yon lone distant bow’r, Sadly, I watch thy tow’r, Fading away. Low winds are sighing, love, Day flowers dying, Sweet moments flying, love, Swiftly away. Come e’er the morning dew, Gemming the heather blue, Green turf and mountain yew, Our fond flight betray. Young years are fleeting, love, Warm bosoms heating, Watch them retreating, love, Sadly away. Haste, o’er the summer tide, Sweetly our bark will glide, Thou my fond trust and guide, On the blue way. * * * * * REVIEW OF NEW BOOKS. _The Critical and Miscellaneous Writings of Thomas Noon Talfourd, author of “Ion,” etc. In one volume. Philadelphia, Carey & Hart, 1842._