Oh! ardent gazers! happy, happy herd Of creatures, who your parlours, back or front, Have left in litters; and in scorn of Hunt And all who once your darker feelings stirred, Have risen this morning with the earliest bird―― Breakfastless haply, or with some such thing As a dry biscuit satisfied; your King May justly prize the crown this day conferred Upon him, and for you his power employ, Was ever love like this! That maiden pale Was there at seven this morn; of cap and veil Despoiled, yon matron laughs. Behold that boy Loyally standing on a spiked rail. Oh! what can damp a nation’s natural joy. EFFECTS OF RAIN AT A CORONATION. What, what but RAIN! When brightest shines the sun, Now as the pageant gorgeous back returns, Down, down it comes! Each honied aspect learns The sour vexation; all delight is done. The King is now forgotten. Many run For shelter, where strange phrases (strange to me) Of “perkins,” “meux,” and “barclay,” seem to be Signs of glad welcome and of social fun. Meanwhile each cloud some cherished comfort mars; Those, envied, on the roofs, slide down again Now envying those below, Rheumatic men, With ague in perspective, curse their stars. Wives, with their dresses dabbled, mourn the sum Thus washed away, and wish they had not come. THE SUBJECT CONTINUED. The very soldiers fly: with dripping plumes Depending, the whole staff, at furious pace, Retreats, most tender of its limbs and lace. On tiptoe creep the carriage-seeking grooms Of many who, among the Abbey-tombs Had prayed for a “long reign!” but not for showers Like this that seems disposed to last for hours! Oh! happy they who, shut within their rooms, Were disappointed of their seats to-day! ’Tis wisely ordered that―――― * * * * * I have forgot what I was going to say. ――――:o:―――― THE LITTLE ABSENTEE. (_Miss L. E. Landon._) [The only illustration to this contribution should be three elegantly-ornamented letters “L.E.L.” Through the clouds in the background might be dimly discerned a face, whose expression seems to hover between Romance and Reality――that indicates a spirit bound by every natural tie to the altar of song, yet stealing a sidelong look at the shrine of prose, as if inclined to offer up half its worship there.] I see the bright procession wind “Like a golden snake” along; And I gaze around the Abbey, lined With a proud and jewelled throng. I see fair Lady Harrington; And rich St. Albans, clad In gems that drive, though ill put on, The peeresses half mad.