Fomalhaut in Pisces, a star of the first magnitude, and very much resembling the planet Saturn, (except that its light is not so steady,) will be observed only a few degrees above the horizon in the south west, coming to the meridian at 6 h. 19 m. evening; Markal in the wing of Pegasus, the flying horse at 6 h. 26 m. Alpheratz and Mirach, the former in the head, and the latter in the girdle, of Andromeda at 7 h. 31 m. and 8 h. 31 m. Menkar in the jaw of Cetus the whale at 10 h. 24 m.; the four preceding are of the second magnitude.  The Pleiades south at 11 h. 8m., and Aldebaran in Taurus, generally called the Bull’s Eye, a brilliant star of the first magnitude at 11 h. 56 m.; the upper or northern portion of the constellation Orion at 12-1/2 h., and the lower or southern part at 1 h. morning.

These remarks cannot be better concluded, than by calling the attention of the readers of the MIRROR to the unerring regularity of the motion of the heavenly bodies.  Though their magnitude is so immense, the certainty and correctness of their movements during thousands of years, is far more exact than that of the best chronometer ever made, even during a single year:  how great, then, must be the ignorance of him who does not behold in them the Almighty ruler of all things; and how great the folly of him, who says in his heart, and evinces by his conduct that he believes there is no God.  And let him who denies what he cannot comprehend, be addressed in the impressive language of holy writ, “Canst thou bind the sweet influences of the Pleiades, or loose the bands of Orion?  Canst thou bring forth Mazzaroth in his season? or canst thou guide Arcturus with his Sons?” 14_th November_, 1827.  PASCHE.

* * * * *

COLD WINTER IS COMING.

(For the Mirror.)

  Cold Winter is coming—­take care of your toes—­
    Gay Zephyr has folded his fan;
  His lances are couch’d in the ice-wind that blows,
    So mail up as warm as you can.

  Cold Winter is coming—­he’s ready to start
    From his home on the mountains afar;
  He is shrunken and pale—­he looks froze to the heart,
    And snow-wreaths embellish his car.

  Cold Winter is coming—­Hark! did ye not hear
    The blast which his herald has blown? 
  The children of Nature all trembled in fear,
    For to them is his power made known.

  Cold Winter is coming—­there breathes not a flower,
    Though sometimes the day may pass fair! 
  The soft lute is removed from the lady’s lorn bower,
    Lest it coldly be touched by the air.

  Cold Winter is coming—­all stript are the groves,
    The passage-bird hastens away;
  To the lovely blue South, like the tourist, he roves,
    And returns like the sunshine in May.

  Cold Winter is coming—­he’ll breathe on the stream—­
    And the bane of his petrific breath
  Will seal up the waters; till, in the moon-beam. 
    They lie stirless, as slumber or death!