MISS FANNY KEMBLE'S POETRY.
AT the Harmonists' Society on Thursday, a very excellent new glee, by Sir GEORGE SMART, was sung by Master PHILLIPS, and Messrs. TERRAIL, HORNCASTLE, Goss, and E. TAYLOR. We understood it was lately produced at the Concentores. We subjoin the poetry, winch was announced to be the production of Miss FANNY KEMBLE. It has not yet appeared in print.
"The moment must come, when the hands that unite In. the firm clasp of friendship, will sever ; When the eyes that have bearn'd o'er us brightly to-night, Will have ceased to,shine round us, for ever.
Yet wreathe around the goblet's brim With pleasure's roseate crown :
What though the future hour be-ditn,
The present is o0 own.
The moment is come—and again we arc parting,
To roam through the world each our separate way : In the bright eye of beauty the pearl-drop is starting—
Yet hope, sunny hope, through the tear sheds its ray. Then wreathe again the goblet's brim With pleasure's roseate crown: In hope, though present hours be dim— The future is our own.
The moment is past—and the bright throng around us, So lately that gather'd, has fled like a dream ; And Time is untwisting the fond links that bound us, Like frost-leaves that melt with the morning's young beam.
Yet wreathe once more the goblet's brim With pleasure's roseate crown :
What though our future hour be dim—
The past has been our own."