But a sleep they yet shall have,
    Sunn’d with no vision’s glow;
  A sleep within the grave—­
    When their eyes are quench’d and low!

  A glorious rest it is,
    To earth’s lorn children given,
  Pure as the bridal kiss,
    To sleep—­and wake in heaven!

Deal.  Reginald Augustine

* * * * *

SCOTCH SONG.

(For the Mirror.)

  Gin Lubin shows the ring to me
    While reavin’ Teviot side,
  And asks me wi’ an earnest e’e,
    To be his bonny bride. 
  At sic a time I canna tell
    What I to him might say,
  But as I lo’e the laddie well,
    I cudna tell him nae.

  I’d say we twa as yet are young,
    Wi’ monie a day to spare,
  An’ then the suit should drap my tongue
    That he might press it mair. 
  I’d gae beside the point awhile,
    Wi’ proper laithfu’ pride,
  By lang to partin’, wi’ a smile,
    Consent to be his bride.

C. Cole.

* * * * *

The Sketch-Book.

* * * * *

THE LOVER STUDENT.

A Leaf from the Reminiscences of a Collegian.

(For the Mirror.)

——­He was but a poor undergraduate; not, indeed, one of lowest grade, but still too much lacking pecuniary supplies to render him an “eligible match.”  Julia, too, though pretty, was portionless; and the world, which always kindly interests itself in such affairs, said, they had no business whatever to become attached to each other; but then, such attachments and the world, never did, and never will agree; and I, from fatal experience, assert that what people impertinently call “falling in love,” is a thing that cannot be helped; I, at least, never could help it.  The regard of Millington and Julia was of a very peculiar nature; it was a morsel of platonism, which is rather too curious to pass unrecorded; for as far as I have been able, upon the most minute investigation to ascertain, they never spoke to each other during the period of their tender acquaintance.  No; they were not dumb, but lacking a mutual friend to give them an introduction; their regard for decorum and etiquette was too great to permit them to speak otherwise than with their eyes.  Millington had kept three terms, when I arrived at ——­ College, a shy and gawky freshman; we had been previously acquainted, and he, pitying perhaps my youth and inexperience, patronized his playmate, and I became his chum.  For some time I was at a loss to account for sundry fluctuations in Henry’s disposition and manners.  He shunned society and would neither accept invitations to wine and supper parties in other men’s rooms, nor give such in his own; nevertheless his person seemed to have become an object of the tenderest regard;