O Music! rapture's in thy chords! Now gushing soft like moon-beams streaming On quiet spot, on rural grot, On mossy couch, on infant dreaming,-- Or rising into raptures wild, It fills with wonder nature's child. The Exile lone, no land to own, Lists to thy soft and touching numbers, And _dreams_ he sees the cot, the trees, The scenes of youth, (how sweet his slumbers!) Nor dreams when thy bright spell is o'er His happy "Home" he'll see no more. The sailor boy, bereft of joy, Looks on the stars above him glowing; The big tear steals, his bosom feels As troubled as the waters flowing, And while the billows round him foam, He faintly murmurs, "Home! sweet Home!" The warrior stern, whose feelings burn To meet the foe, his rights defending, When war is o'er, sweet home once more Its rainbow colors round him blending, Invites him from the bloody plain Back to its quiet hearth again. The christian warm, round whom the storm Of opposition wildly rages, Beholds the prize beyond the skies, Reflected on the glowing pages Of God's own book, and with a tear Of joy, he "reads his title clear." O! onward press, life's wilderness Will soon be past; where spirits linger Round flowing streams in rapt'rous dreams And golden lyres, softly finger, We all shall meet, no more to roam, And dwell in an eternal home. EDITORIAL REMARKS. We continue the interesting "_Sketches of Tripoli and the Barbary States_." We believe that when completed, they will constitute the most authentic record extant, of the military and diplomatic transactions of the period referred to. Besides the author's access to correct sources of information, he has the taste and talent to impart peculiar grace and interest to his narrative. "_Berenice_," a tale, by Mr. Edgar A. Poe, will be read with interest, especially by the patrons of the Messenger in this city, of which Mr. P. is a native, and where he resided until he reached manhood. Whilst we confess that we think there is too much German horror in his subject, there can be but one opinion as to the force and elegance of his style. He discovers a superior capacity and a highly cultivated taste in composition. The "_Extract from the Reminiscences of a Western Traveller_," proceeding as it does from the pen of a practised and polished writer, has the additional advantage, as we are assured, of being founded in strict truth. We are sorry that we are not permitted to announce the source from which we derive the original story or apologue of "_Jonathan Bull and Mary Bull_." Its own merit however, and its obvious application to events of the time at which it was written, will attract a due share of attention. We especially recommend to our female readers, particularly the young and lovely who are just entering into the flowery but deceitful paths of worldly pleasure, to read the original narrative which is headed "_Marrying Well_."