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KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



which never fails to haunt its victims until 

 it has finally destroyed them. Duty is a 

 word involving a world of meaning ; and 

 we quite agree with our correspondent, that 

 it stands high among the Virtues. When 

 allied to Affection, and the pair " travel in 

 sweet company together," then is Duty still 

 more amiable. Affection is the ocean; Duty 

 a river.] 



THE FIRST VIOLETS. 



BY SIR BULWER LYTTON. 



Who that has loved knows not the tender tale 



Which flowers reveal when lips are coy to tell ? 

 Whose youth has passed not. dreaming in the vale, 

 Where the rath violets dwell ? 



Lo, when they shrink along the lonely brake, 



Under the leafless, melancholy tree ; 

 Not yet the cnckoo sings, nor glides the snake, 

 Nor wild thyme lures the bee ! 



Yet, at their sight and scent entranced and thrill'd, 



All June seems golden in the April skies ; 

 How sweet the days we yearn for, till fulfiU'd ! 

 distant Paradise, — 



Dear land, to which desire for ever flees, 



Time doth no present to the grasp allow ; 

 Say, in the fix'd eternal shall we seize 

 At last the fleeting now ? 



Dream not of days to come, of that unknown 



Whither hope wanders (maze without a clue) : 

 Give their true witchery to the flowers — their own 

 Youth in their youth renew. 



Avarice ! remember when the cowslip's gold 

 Lured and yet lost its glitter in thy grasp ; 

 Do thy hoards glad thee more than those of old ? — 

 Those wither'd in thy clasp. 



From these thy clasp falls palsied ! — It was then 



That thou wert rich ; — thy coffers are a lie ! 

 Alas, poor fool ! joy is the wealth of men, 

 And care their poverty ! 



Come, foil'd ambition ! what hast thou desired ? 



Empire and power? — wanderer, tempest-tost : 

 These once ivere thine, when life's gay spring in- 

 spired 

 Thy soul with glories lost ! 



Let the flowers charm thee to the jocund prime, 



When o'er the stars rapt fancy traced the chart; 

 Thou hadst an angel's power in that blest time, 

 Thy realm a human heart ! 



Hark ! hark ! again the tread of bashful feet ! 

 Hark! the boughs rustling round the trysting 



place ! 

 Let air again with one dear breath be sweet, 



Each fair with one dear face ! 



Brief-lived first flowers, first love ! the hours steal 



on, 

 To prank the world in summer's pomp of hue ; 

 But what shall flaunt beneath a fiercer sun 



Worth what we lose in you ? 



Oft, by a flower, a leaf, in some loved book 



We mark the lines that charm us most. .Retrace 

 Thy life, recall its loveliest passage ; — look, 

 Dead violets keep the place ! 



RECOLLECTIONS OF CEYLON. 



BY W. KNIGHTON. 



The evening was drawing near. We 

 stopped for the night at a bungalow, half- 

 way between Colombo and Kandy, beauti- 

 fully situated in a valley, formed by a semi- 

 circular group of hills, amongst which the 

 road wound on to the east in its uninterrupted 

 course. As the sun sank, large, clear, and 

 unclouded in the west, the full moon rose 

 with a splendor peculiarly her own in the 

 clear air of the Tropics, upon the east. I 

 know not how to give an idea of the loveli- 

 ness of that night, as we enjoyed it ; walking 

 in the verandah of the bungalow, and bathing 

 as it were in the flood of silver glory poured 

 down so profusely by the pale queen of 

 night upon the earth ! Not even upon the 

 ocean have I witnessed a splendor equal to 

 that ! The stars twinkled dimly here and 

 there, obscured by the more powerful beams 

 of the moon ; whilst the whole earth seemed 

 lighted up with intensely burnished silver 

 mirrors, reflecting floods of light in every 

 direction. The dark shadows on the hill 

 sides were rendered still darker by the soft 

 glow which diffused itself upon all the salient 

 points of the landscape. 



If one could choose, where all was loveli- 

 ness, perhaps the palm trees presented the 

 most strikingly new and bewitching aspect. 

 Their long graceful leaves, wet with dew, 

 shone with a mild radiance as the flood of 

 light was poured down upon them ; whilst 

 between their ever moving branches, the 

 rays of the moon made their way timidly 

 as it were to the earth, where an exact 

 impression of the graceful tracery above was 

 pictured out upon the grass in black and 

 silver, never at rest, but always lovely. 



All nature seemed to enjoy the glorious 

 spectacle. " Most glorious night," I involun- 

 tarily exclaimed, with the poet, " thou wert 

 not sent for slumber." From the minutest 

 insects in the air to the hugest denizens of 

 the forest, all seemed equally impressed 

 with the same idea, that it were treason to 

 the majesty of nature not to enjoy such a 

 scene. The air was rilled at intervals with the 

 various noises that a luxuriant Tropical fauna 

 alone can produce. There was bellowing 

 from the woods, the wild shriek or shrill cry 

 of the monkeys mingling there with the 

 trumpeting of the elephant ; croakings from 

 the river and marshes ; loud buzzings from 

 the trees and air ; whilst birds called to and 

 answered each other with incessant rapidity, 

 all intermingled and alternated with each 

 other at intervals ; between which a silence 

 as of universal awe or death, crept over the 

 landscape. The nearer and sharper sounds 

 ceased, the silent circle widened, and gradu- 

 ally the more distant reverberations ended ; 



