'THIS is the mental death--the agony Beyond all pain of limb, all fever smart, All racking of the joints: this is to die; Sad burial of the hope that lit the heart; Love mourning, doomed affections lingering by, Muttering the words of death: 'We part, we part!' Ah! what the trial, where the pangs, the fears, To equal this sad source of thousand tears? 'And when the lamp of life upon a verge Unseated as a vision, sinks at last; And when the spirit launches on the surge Of that dark, drear, unfathomable vast We call eternity, its latest dirge Bemoans not pangs, still pressing, not o'erpast, But that all natural things, forms, stars, and skies, And the more loved than all, are fading from its eyes. 'Thus still beloved, though all relentless fair, I part from thee and perish. Never more Shall I win sweetness from the desolate air, Or find a fragrant freshness in the shore; The sea that images my deep despair Hath still a kindred language in its roar, And in the clouds that gather on our lee A mournful likeness to my soul I see. 'The sense of life grows dim; the glories pass, Like those of melting rainbows from my sight; Dark aspects rise as in the wizard's glass, Reflect my inner soul, and tell of night; Glooms gather on my vision, in a mass, And all my thoughts, beheld in their dread light, Rise like unbidden spectres; rise to rave Above the heart, which soon may be their grave.' The purpose of the author to preserve this youthful effort of his muse from oblivion, by giving it in a printed form to the public, will not, we may believe, be subserved; for although portions of it are undeniably clever, yet as a whole it lacks the elements of life; a fact, indeed, of which the writer himself seems sufficiently aware, if we interpret aright the long introduction with which he has deemed it necessary to preface a short poem. The little volume, which is very neatly executed, is dedicated to one who is himself well qualified to appreciate, and on occasion to produce, good poetry--JAMES LAWSON, Esq., of this city. * * * * * CHANGE FOR THE AMERICAN NOTES: in Letters from London to New-York. By an American Lady. New-York: HARPER AND BROTHERS.