ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF HER WEDDING-DAY, WHICH WAS ALSO HER BIRTH-DAY, WITH A RING. 'Thee, Mary, with this ring I wed'-- So, fourteen years ago, I said.---- Behold another ring!--'For what?' 'To wed thee o'er again?'--Why not? With that first ring I married youth, Grace, beauty, innocence, and truth; Taste long admired, sense long revered, And all my Molly then appeared. If she, by merit since disclosed, Prove twice the woman I supposed, I plead that double merit now, To justify a double vow. Here then to-day, with faith as sure, With ardour as intense, as pure, As when, amidst the rites divine, I took thy troth, and plighted mine, To thee, sweet girl, my second ring A token and a pledge I bring: With this I wed, till death us part, Thy riper virtues to my heart; Those virtues which, before untried, The wife has added to the bride: Those virtues, whose progressive claim, Endearing wedlock's very name, My soul enjoys, my song approves, For conscience' sake, as well as love's. And why? They show me every hour, Honour's high thought, Affection's power, Discretion's deed, sound Judgment's sentence, And teach me all things--but repentance. SUSANNA BLAMIRE. This lady was born at Cardew Hall, near Carlisle, and remained there from the date of her birth (1747) till she was twenty years of age, when she accompanied her sister--who had married Colonel Graham of Duchray, Perthshire--to Scotland, and continued there some years. She became enamoured of Scottish music and poetry, and thus qualified herself for writing such sweet lyrics as 'The Nabob,' and 'What ails this heart o' mine?' On her return to Cumberland she wrote several pieces illustrative of Cumbrian manners. She died unmarried in 1794. Her poetical pieces, some of which had been floating through the country in the form of popular songs, were collected by Mr Patrick Maxwell, and published in 1842. The two we have quoted rank with those of Lady Nairne in nature and pathos. THE NABOB. 1 When silent time, wi' lightly foot, Had trod on thirty years, I sought again my native land Wi' mony hopes and fears. Wha kens gin the dear friends I left May still continue mine? Or gin I e'er again shall taste The joys I left langsyne? 2 As I drew near my ancient pile, My heart beat a' the way; Ilk place I passed seemed yet to speak O' some dear former day; Those days that followed me afar, Those happy days o' mine, Whilk made me think the present joys A' naething to langsyne! 3 The ivied tower now met my eye, Where minstrels used to blaw; Nae friend stepped forth wi' open hand, Nae weel-kenned face I saw; Till Donald tottered to the door, Wham I left in his prime, And grat to see the lad return He bore about langsyne.