IN MEMORY OF LITTLE OSCAR.[ In last March we announced the death of little Oscar Albert Dow, but the lines accompanying: the notice were misplaced, and the following have been substituted, by request of the grief-stricken father. — Ed. Gazette. JDear little Oscar, the fevered dream of life For thee ie past and done forever,And thou hast tasted of the heavenly peace Beyond death's dark and troubled river.Thou can’st not see the tears are shed for thee ;Thou can*st not hear the bitter weeping,Nor count the bursting sighs are breathed InVain Under the locust tree where thou art sleeping.Ah no ! above thy still and lowly bed The wayward lee his course is winging,And flowers will bloom, and long irreen grasses wave, And sweet birds there be ever singing.And thou below, dear one, shalt rest as sweet As cradled 011 a mother's bosom.And know no more of sin and pain and death.Than bird and bee and tender blossom.Dear, childish heart; thou can’st not comfort them Who weep their earthly idol perished;They can but mourn their child forever gone,W'ith all the happy hopes they cherished,But if thy sinless spirit, freed of earth,Looks down u]on their bitter grieving,Mcthinks it marve!e3 they could wish thee tack To life so little worth the living.All well ! it matters little what we wish—The God has taken who had given ;And neither sighs, nor tears, nor eager prayers Can call thee earthward out of Heaven.