1 FEBRUARY 1879, page 17

Mortality.

How do the roses die ? Do their leaves fall together, Thrown down and scattered by the sky Of angry weather ? No, the sad thunder-stroke O'ersweeps their lowly bower ; The storm......

Art.

THE WATER-COLOUR SOCIETIES.* THESE two exhibitions have been open for some time, but owing to the pressure on the slight amount of our artistic space, we have been unable to......

Poetry.

A REPROACH, AND ITS ANSWER. THE Sun cried to the laughing Sea, "Leave thy sweet wiling! East thou no depths of love in thee, Too deep for smiling ?" But ever, till the day was......