The Mirror, 1828.07.05, issue No. 321

choirs Of winged minstrels, waking out of light, Ring requiem meet to those departing fires-- Let me be with thee then--forgetting quite The world, its scornfulness, and its desires.

O! I could weep for thee! and yet not tears Of hopelessness, but triumph, and sit down And weave for thee wet wild-flowers for a crown-- Then up, and sound rich music in thine ears; And teach thee, that sweet lips, in coming years, Shall lisp the songs which cold dull hearts disown,-- That all which hope could pant for is thine own,-- Dimmed, for a moment's space, with human fears. Then watch the new-born glories in thine eye, Glancing like lightning from its chariot cloud, And list these words, which know not how to die,-- Joy's inspiration gushing forth aloud: Then back again unto the world and sigh, And wrap my heart up in a dusky shroud.

THOMAS M---- S.

* * * * *

CHOOSING OF BAILIFFS AT BRIDGNORTH.

(For the Mirror.)

The bailiffs of Bridgnorth are chosen out of the twenty-four