Thy golden tints reflected still
Beam mildly on my native hill:
Thou goest in other lands to shine,
Hail'd and expected by a numerous line,
Whilst many days and many months must pass
Ere thou shall'st bless us with one closing glance.
My cave must now become my lowly home,
Nor can I longer from its precincts roam,
Till the fixed time that brings thee back again
With added splendour to resume thy reign.

IOTA.

* * * * *



ANCIENT VALUE OF BOOKS.

_(For the Mirror.)_


We have it from good authority, that about A.D. 1215, the Countess of
Anjou paid two hundred sheep, five quarters of wheat, and the same
quantity of rye, for a volume of Sermons--so scarce and dear were books at
that time; and although the countess might in this case have possibly been
imposed upon, we have it, on Mr. Gibbon's authority, that the value of
manuscript copies of the Bible, for the use of the monks and clergy,
commonly was from four to five hundred crowns at Paris, which, according
to the relative value of money at that time and now in our days, could not,