116 STANZAS FOR MUSIC. 



be best shown by reference to two or three simple facts. The pre- 

 sent cost for the conveyance of goods from London to Manchester is 

 about four shillings per hundred weight by canal carriage, and rather 

 more than four times that amount by Pickford's fly-vans. The time 

 of transfer by the canal is less than five days, whilst the road convey- 

 ance averages about thirty-six hours. Now the same weight of 

 goods may be conveniently carried over the same distance by a rail- 

 road in ten hours, and for one half the cost of ordinary land carriage. 

 The peculiar importance of this subject at the present moment 

 will be best understood by a reference to the parliamentary proceed- 

 ings in both branches of the senate. In most cases even the disputes 

 of party spirit have given place to the overwhelming claims of the 

 subject before us ; and we purpose, on a future occasion, noticing in 

 detail the principal works of this description now in progress. 



C. F. P. 



STANZAS FOR MUSIC. 



I wooed thee, love, to send me o'er 



Some gift of little worth, 

 Yet one whose form might give once more 



Old thoughts and feelings birth. 



It is not that the stranger-land 



Has changed those dreams of mine ; 

 They ask not, love, another band 



To hold them to their shrine. 



You sent the book whose study fair 



Won sweetness from thy tone ; 

 Those eyes, with mine, have wandered there 



I cannot read alone. 



You gave your favourite flower; but take 



Again the fragile thing 

 I would not wear, for thy sweet sake, 



A gift so perishing. 



Thou art my flower the gem most fair 



In nature's wide array 

 No poison-seeds are lurking there ; 



No blush to veil decay. 



Those leaves were formed in fairy mould ; 



They bear no taint of earth ; 

 They ask no sunshine to unfold 



The beauty of their birth. 



Thou art my book the sternest sage 



Sweet wisdom there may see 

 I seek no knowledge that bright page 



Cannot impart to me. 



Then teach me, love, the gentle art 



Such treasured hopes to win ; 

 Bright leaves to glow above my heart, 



Loved words to burn within. W. H. S. 



