THE GRAVE OF GENIUS.
IN the last page of the Diary of an Ennuyt'e, it is recorded in a postscript, that the unhappy writer, whose soul seemed to have sighed itself out in the preceding sentence in a wish for " rest," had found it in the Garden of the Capuchins,.near Anti. A re- nowned English poet, deeply sympathizing- in the painful reality of the story, gave vent to his feelings in the following epitaph at the place of burial :-
"TO REST IS ALL I ASK."
Rest, child of Fancy ! child of Sorrow !
No more with human ills to strive;
Rest till that day which bath no morrow—
When Time shall die, but thou revive !
Dwell far from hence, cold reptiles, far— Let glow-worms gem her verdant bed, Like glean: of light aurae pitying star Hath o'er tile grave of Genius shed !
Oft may the lark, his hymn-notes pouring, Spring skyward from this sacred sod, Sweet symbol of her spirit, soaring
From Earth and Man, to heaven and G,,,1!
W. R. S.
These verses do credit to the ainial)le smntceriiy of the poet. We rejoice that the subject of them is and not unlikely to captivate readers of sensibility and taste with many now works of fit;tivr;.'