350 



ADVENT. 



DEC. 15. St. Eusebius, bp. of Vercelli, a.d. 371. 



St. Florence or Flann, abbot in Ireland. 



Octave of the Conception. 



Ohs. St. Eusebius was the first Bishop of Vercelli whose name 

 was known. St. Ambrose assures us that he was the first who in 

 the west united the monastic life with the clerical ; living himself, 

 and making his clergy in the city live, almost in the same manner 

 as the monks in the east did in the deserts. St. Jerom places 

 the death of St. Eusebius in 371 ; an ancient author says it 

 happened on the 1st of August. 



Pitch Pine Pinus resinosa fr. 



This is Itie tree called Pine of St. Florence ; from it pitcli is chiefly derived. 

 How much the scenes of our early childhood are connected nith the recollec- 

 tion of particular trees, under whose shade we have played as children, or 

 whose particular forms have caught our infant attention. Some of the plea- 

 santest recollections and images are connected with old favourite trees, and 

 thev make up part of tlie sccne'rv in the maiiic lantern mind of the nostalgic 

 sojourner in a far distant land, who sighs when he thinks of his native home 

 and the scenes of his childhood. 



The following beautiful lines are from the pen of Vincente Rodriqtici de 



Arellano: ,,. ., 



Ml Amnda. 



Si Saver queres 

 Bella Pastora 

 A quien ariora 

 Mi Corazon. 



Ove las senas 

 'De la hermosura 

 Cuya luz pura 

 Mi embelezo. 



Negros y laraos 

 Son sus cabellos 

 Juirar con ellos 

 Solia amor. 



Y entre sus hcbras 

 Aprisionado 

 De enaniorajo 

 Tal vez llorJ). 



Sobre la leche 

 (Jue con caiitela 

 De la ovejuela 

 Sacca el pastor. 



Ca6r no has visto 

 Ojas de Rosa 

 Que hacen vistosa 

 Placida union, &c. 



Pues esa misnia 

 Orna el semblante 

 De la que amante 

 Me aprision6. 



Porque en sq seno 

 Trente y mexillas 

 Sus maravillas 

 Flora apnru. 



Flor de granado 

 Kosa temprana 

 Nacar y grana 

 Sus labros son. 



y el talle joveu 

 Cedroque mueve 

 Del vento leve 

 Soplo veloz. 



Mayor Prodiiiio 

 Jiayor balleza 

 Naturaleza 

 Nunqua forni6. 



Si ya con esta 

 S'o hus penetrado 

 Quien ha robado 

 Mi inclinacion. 



Llega a esa fuente 

 Tan clara y bella 

 Y mira en ella 

 Tu perfeccion. 



Que sus cristales 

 Preciosa encanto 

 Te divan quanto 

 Calli mi voz. 



