me for a moment." When the princess was gone, Aladdin shut the door, and going to the dead body of the magician, opened his vest, took out the lamp, and rubbed it. The genius immediately appeared. "Genius," said Aladdin, "I command thee to convey this palace to its former situation in Tartary." The palace was immedi ately removed into Tartary, without any sensation tj those who were contained in it. Aladdin went to the princess's apartment, and embracing her, said, "I can assure you, princess, that your joy and mine will be complete to-morrow morning."

Aladdin rose at daybreak in the morning, and put on one of his most splendid habits. At an early hour he went into the hall from the windows of which he perceived the sultan. They met together at the foot of the great staircase of Aladdin's palace. The venerable sultan was some time before he could open his lips, so great was his joy that he had found his daughter once more. She soon came to him; he embraced her and made her relate all that had happened to her. Aladdin ordered the magician's body to be thrown on the dunghill, as the prey of birds. Thus Aladdin was delivered from the persecution of the magician. Within a short time afterwards the sultan died at a good old age; and, as he left no sons, the princess became heiress to the crown; but Aladdin being her husband, the sovereignty, it was agreed by the great officers of the state, should devolve upon him. They reigned together many years and left a numerous and illustrious posterity.

WRITTEN IN MARCH.

WHILE RESTING ON THE BRIDGE AT THE FOOT OF
BROTHERS' WATER.

THE SHEPHERD.

William Blake.

How sweet is the shepherd's sweet lot:
From the morn to the evening he strays;
He shall follow his sheep all the day,

And his tongue shall be filled with praise.

For he hears the lamb's innocent call,
And he hears the ewe's tender reply;
He is watchful while they are in peace,
For they know when their shepherd is nigh.

ARIEL'S SONG.

From THE TEMPEST.

William Shakespeare.

WHERE the bee sucks, there suck I:

In a cowslip's bell I lie;

There I crouch when owls do cry.

On the bat's back I do fly

After summer merrily.

Merrily, merrily shall I live now

Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.

LUCY GRAY.

William Wordsworth.

OFT I had heard of Lucy Gray:
And, when I crossed the wild,
I chanced to see at break of day
The solitary child.

No mate, no comrade Lucy knew;
She dwelt on a wide moor,

The sweetest thing that ever grew
Beside a human door!

You yet may spy the fawn at play,
The hare upon the green;
But the sweet face of Lucy Gray
Will never more be seen.

66 To-night will be a stormy night -
You to the town must go;

And take a lantern, Child, to light
Your mother through the snow.

"That, Father! will I gladly do:
'Tis scarcely afternoon -

The minster-clock has just struck two,

And yonder is the moon!

At this the father raised his hook,

And snapped a faggot-band;

He plied his work; - and Lucy took The lantern in her hand.