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TENNYSONIANA.
So that, in that I have lived, do I live, And cannot die, and am, in having been, A portion of the pleasant yesterday, Thrust forward on to-day and out of place; A body journeying onward, sick with toil, The lithe limbs bow'd as with a heavy weight, And all the senses weaken'd in all, save that Which long ago they had glean'd and garner'd up Into the granaries of memory. *****
Even as the all-enduring camel, driven Far from the diamond fountain by the palms, Toils onward thro' the middle moonlit nights Shadow'd and crimson'd with the drifting dust; Or when the white heats of the blinding noons Beat from the concave sand; yet in him keeps A draught of that sweet fountain that he loves To stay his feet from falling, and his spirit From bitterness of death."

We reluctantly close our scanty extracts with another fine simile:

"There be some hearts so airy-fashioned, That in the death of Love, if e'er they loved,
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