The night wind sighs drear, in its last dying breath; The clouds fleet away, like the shadows of death, From the face of the moon, whose sepulch'red light Steals softly upon the dark bosom of night,-- As the last smile of hope, ere the spirit hath fled, Lingers tranquil and bright o'er the face of the dead. ALPHA. The lines which follow ought to be preserved in a more permanent form than the columns of a newspaper. They were written and published before Mr. Johnston's lamentable death. It will be recollected that he perished by the explosion of a steamboat, ascending the Red River. After the above was penned, the melancholy intelligence reached us of Mr. Davis's death. Patriotism will mourn his loss, and the Columbian Muse hang a garland over his tomb. From the Augusta (Geo.) Chronicle. The following beautiful parody, which we met with in the hands of a respected friend, and were permitted by him to take a copy for publication, is attributed to the Hon. Warren R. Davis of South Carolina--a gentleman no less distinguished, admired and beloved for his many and striking literary acquirements, private virtues, social qualities, fine manners, polished, varied and brilliant wit and vivid fancy,--than for his ardent patriotism, open and fearless honesty, independence, eloquence, and disinterested devotion to his gallant and glorious state. It is said to have been written, on the sportive suggestion of the moment, as a contribution to the Album of the talented, accomplished and witty lady of the Hon. Mr. Johnston of the United States Senate from Louisiana. The old air of "Roy's Wife of Aldavalloch" is, we think, one of the most rare and beautiful specimens of that class of Scottish music, which was probably introduced from Italy, in the time of the brilliant but unfortunate Queen Mary. PARODY. Johnston's wife of Louisiana! Johnston's wife of Louisiana! The fairest flower that ever bloomed In southern sun or gay savannah.[1] The Inca's blood flows in her veins--[2] The Inca's soul her bright eyes lighten; Child of the sun, like him she reigns, To cheer our hopes, our sorrows brighten. Johnston's wife of Louisiana! Johnston's wife of Louisiana! The fairest flower that ever bloomed In southern sun or gay savannah. Johnston's wife of Louisiana! Johnston's wife of Louisiana! She hath a way to win all hearts, And bow them to the shrine of Anna! Her mind is radiant with the lore Of ancient and of modern story-- And native wit of richer store Bedecks her with its rainbow glory. Johnston's wife of Louisiana! Johnston's wife of Louisiana! She hath a way to charm all hearts, And bow them to the shrine of Anna!