5 JULY 1828, Page 18

SONG.

FROM JOANNA BAILL1E'S NEW TRAGEDY, "THE BRIDE."

" The gliding fish that takes his play In shady nook of streamlet cool, Thinks not how waters pass away, And summer dries the pool.

The bird beneath his leafy dome, Who trills his carol, loud and clear, Thinks not how soon his verdant home Time lightning's breath may sear.

Shall I, within my bridegroom's bower With braids of budding roses twin'd, Look forward to a coming hour When he may prove unkind ?

The bee reigns in his waxen cell, The chieftain in his stately hold, To-morrow's earthquake—who can tell? May both in ruin fold."