Dum forest-arches, bathing with red gold Their stems, till each is made a marvel to behold, LXXIV. Gorgeous, yet full of gloom!—In such an hour, The vesper-melody of dying bells Wanders through Spain, from each gray convent's tower O'er shining rivers poured, and olive-dells, In these vast woods, where farewell ne'er was spoken, I have seen A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract Note 2, page 2, col. 2. I see an oak before me, &c. "I recollect hearing a traveller, of poetical tem. And sole I lift to Heaven a sad heart-yet un- felt on beholding on the banks of the Missouri, an perament expressing the kind of horror which ha broken! LXXV. In such an hour are told the hermit's beads; With the white sail the seaman's hymns floats by: Peace be with all! whate'er their varying creeds, Of Him whose voice we hear at eve amidst the wild. LXXVI. At eve?-oh!-through all hours!-From dark dreams oft Awakening, I look forth, and learn the might Of silitude, while thou art breathing soft, And low, my loved one! on the breast of night: I look forth on the stars-the shadowy sleep Of forests-and the lake, whose gloomy deep Sends up red sparkles to the fire-flies' light. A lonely world!-even fearful to man's thought, But for His presence felt, whom here my soul hath sought. NOTES. Note 1, page 1, col. 2. And sighing through the feathery canes, &c. The canes in some parts of the American forests' form a thick undergrowth for many hundred miles. -See Hodgson's Letters from North America, vol. i. p. 242. Note 2, page 1, col. 2. And for their birth-place moan, as moans the ocean-shell. Such a shell as Wordsworth has beautifully described oak of prodigious size, which had been in a manner overpowered by an enormous wild grape-vine. The vine had clasped its huge folds round the trunk, and from thence had wound about every branch and twig, until the mighty tree had withered in its embrace. It seemed like Laocoon struggling ineffectually in the hideous coils of the monster Python."—Bracebridge Hall. Chapter on Forest Trees. Note 4, page 4, col. 1. More nobly far my Alvar!—making known For a most interesting account of the Spanish Protestants, and the heroic devotion with which they met the spirit of persecution in the sixteenth century, see the Quarterly Review, No. 57, art. Quin's Visit to Spain. Note 5, page 5, col. 1. I look'd on two, "A priest, named Gonzalez, had among other proselytes, gained over two young females, his sisters, to the protestant faith. All three were confined in the dungeons of the Inquisition. Tho torture, repeatedly applied, could not draw from them the least evidence against their religious associates. Every artifice was employed to obtain a recantation from the two sisters, since the constancy and learning of Gonzalez precluded all hopes of a theological victory. Their answer, if not exactly logical, is wonderfully simple and affecting. We will die in the faith of our brother: he is too wise to be wrong, and too good to deceive us.'— The three stakes on which they died were near each other. The priest had been gagged till the moment of lighting up the wood. The few minutes that he was allowed to speak, he employed in comforting his sisters, with whom he sung the 109th Psalm, till the flames smothered then voices."--Ibid. Note 9, page 10, col. 2. For thick ye girt me round, ye long-departed! New England.-See Hodgson's Letters from Note 12, page 12, col. 1. Bring me the sounding of the torrent-water, With yet a nearer swell-fresh breeze, awake! ded to in an interesting work of Mrs. Grant's. The varying sounds of waterfalls are thus allu"On the opposite side the view was bounded by steep hills, covered with lofty pines, from which a waterfall descended, which not only gave animater imaginable; foretelling by its varied and inteltion to the sylvan scene, but was the best baromeligible sounds every approaching change, not only of the weather but of the wind."-Memoirs of an American Lady, vol. i. p. 143. Note 13, page 13, col. 1. And the full circle of the rainbow seen The circular rainbows, occasionally seen amongst the Andes, are described by Ulloa. Note 14, page 13, col. 1. But so my spirit's fevered longings wrought, Many striking instances of the vividness with "You walk from end to end over a floor of tomb- which the mind, when strongly excited, has been stones, inlaid in brass with the forms of the depart-known to renovate past impressions, and embody ed, mitres, and croziers, and spears, and shields, them into visible imagery, are noticed and accountand helmets, all mingled together-all worn into ed for in Dr. Hibbert's Philosophy of Apparitions. glass-like smoothness by the feet and the knees of The following illustrative passage is quoted in the long-departed worshippers. Around, on every side same work, from the writings of the late Dr. Fercach in their separate chapel, sleep undisturbed riar. "I remember that, about the age of fourfrom age to age the venerable ashes of the holiest teen, it was a source of great amusement to myor the loftiest that of old came thither to worship self, if I had been viewing any interesting object -their images and their dying prayers sculptured in the course of the day, such as a romantic ruin, umong the resting-places of their remains."-From a fine seat, or a review of a body of troops, as soon a beautiful description of ancient Spanish Cathedrals, in Peter's Letters to his Kinsfolk. Note 10, page 11, col. 2. With eyes, whose lightning laughter hath beguiled "Ellampeggiar de l'angelico riso.—Petrarch. as evening came on, if I had occasion to go into a dark room, the whole scene was brought before my eyes with a brilliancy equal to what it had possess ed in daylight, and remained visible for several minutes. I have no doubt that dismal and frightful images have been thus presented to young persons after scenes of domestic affliction or public horror." The following passage from the "Alcazar of Weaving their gorgeous tracery o'er thy head, Seville," a tale, or historical sketch, by the author With the light melting through their high arcades, of Doblado's letters, affords a further illustration As through a pillared cloister's. of this subject. "When, descending fast into the "Sometimes their discourse was held in the deep vale of years, I strongly fix my mind's eye on those shades of moss-grown forests, whose gloom and narrow, shady, silent streets, where I breathed the interlaced boughs first suggested that Gothic ar-scented air which came rustling through the surcnitecture, beneath whose pointed arches, where rounding groves; where the footsteps re-echoed they nad studied and prayed, the parti-coloured from the clean watered porches of the houses, and windows shed a tinged light; scenes, which the where every object spoke of quiet and contentment; gleams of sunshine, penetrating the deep foliage, the objects around me begi and flickering on the variegated turf below, might to fade into a mere delusion, and not only the have recalled to their memory."-Webster's Ora- thoughts, but the external sensations, which 1 tion on the Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers in then experience, revive with a reality that almost makes me shudder-it has so much the character | Asturian at sea, mentions the entreaty of the offiof a trance, or vision." Note 15, page 15, col. 1. Nor the faint flower-scents, as they come and go ciating priest, that the body, which had been brought upon deck during the night, might not be committed to the waves until after sunrise, in order to pay it the last rites according to the usage of the Note 19, page 19, col. 2. Oh art thou not where there is no more sea? "For because the breath of flowers is farre sweet-Romish church. er in the aire (where it comes and goes like the warbling of music) than in the hand, therefore nothing is more fit for that delight than to know what be the flowers and plants which doe best perfume the aire."-Lord Bacon's Essay◆n Gardens. Note 16, page 17, col. 2. I saw thee shine Once more, in thy serene magnificence, O Southern Cross! Note 20, page 20, col. 1. And o'er the Andes-torrents borne his form, "Anon some wilder portraiture he draws, Note 21, page 20, col. 2. "The pleasure we felt on discovering the South-fibres of equinoctial plants. Their tremulous moern Cross was warmly shared by such of the crew tion has afforded a striking image to one of the as had lived in the colonies. In the solitude of the stanzas in "Gertrude of Wyoming." seas, we hail a star as a friend from whom we have long been separated. Among the Portuguese and the Spaniards, peculiar motives seem to increase this feeling; a religious sentiment attaches them to a constellation, the form of which recals the sign of the faith planted by their ancestors in the deserts It has been of the New World. . . . . . observed at what hour of the night, in different seasons, the Cross of the South is erect or inclined. It is a time-piece that advances very regularly near four minutes a day, and no other group of stars exhibits to the naked eye an observation of time so easily made. How often have we heard our guides exclaim in the savannahs of Venezuela, or in the desert extending from Lima to Truxillo, "Midnight is past, the cross begins to bend!" How often these words reminded us of that affecting scene where Paul and Virginia, seated near the source of the river Lataniers, conversed together for the last time, and where the old man, at the sight of the Southern Cross, warns them that it is time to separate!"-De Humboldt's Travels. Note 17, page 18, col. 1. Songs of the orange bower, the Moorish hold, "Rio verde, rio verde," the popular Spanish Romance, known to the English reader in Percy's translation. "Gentle river, gentle river, Lo, thy streams are stained with gore! Floats along thy willowed shore," &c. &c. Note 18, page 19, col. 1. Then the broad lonely sunrise!-and the plash Into the sounding waves! And then his play Through the wide Llanos cheered again our way. Llanos, or savannas, the great plains in South America. Note 22, page 20, col. 1. And by the mighty Oronoco stream, On whose lone margin we have heard at morn From the mysterious rocks, the sunrise-music borne. De Humboldt speaks of these rocks on the shores of the Oronoco. Travellers have heard from time to time subterraneous sounds proceed from them at run-rise, resembling those of an organ. He believes in the existence of this mysterious music, although not fortunate enough to have heard it himself, and thinks that it may be produced by currents of air issuing through the crevices. Note 23, page 20, col. 2. Yet those deep southern shades oppressed The same distinguished traveller frequently al ludes to the extreme stillness of the air in the equatorial regions of the new continent, and particularly on the thickly wooded shores of the Oronoco. "In this neighbourhood," he says, "no breath of wind De Humboldt, in describing the burial of a young ever agitates the foliage." Lays of Many Lands. The following pieces may so far be considered a series, as each is intended to be commemorative of some national recollection, popular custom, or tradition. The idea was suggested by Herder's "Stimmen der Völker in Liedern;" the execution is however different, as the poems in his collection are chiefly translations. Most of those forming the present one have appeared, as well as the miscellaneous pieces attached to them, in the New Monthly Magazine. MOORISH BRIDAL SONG. It is a custom among the Moors, that a female who dies un Deep silent joy within her soul is springing, Though in her glance the light no more is mirth! Her beauty leaves us in its rosy years; Her sisters weep-but she hath done with tears! -Now may the timbrel sound!" Knowest thou for whom they sang the bridal numbers? -One, whose rich tresses were to wave no more! One, whose pale cheek soft winds, nor gentle slumbers, Nor Love's own sigh, to rose-tints might restore! Her graceful ringlets o'er a bier were spread. married is clothed for interment in wedding apparel, and the-Weep for the young, the beautiful,—the dead! bridal song is sung over her remains before they are borne rom her home. See the Narrative of a Ten Year's Residence in THE citron groves their fruit and flowers were strewing Around a Moorish palace, while the sigh Of low sweet summer-winds, the branches wooing, With music through their shadowy bowers went by; Music and voices, from the marble halls, Through the leaves gleaming, and the fountainfalls. A song of joy, a bridal song came swelling, To blend with fragrance in those southern shades, And told of feasts within the stately dwelling, Bright lamps, and dancing steps, and gemcrowned maids; And thus it flowed;-yet something in the lay Belonged to sadness, as it died away. "The bride comes forth! her tears no more are falling To leave the chamber of her infant years; tears; Now must her dark eye shine on other flowers, Her soft smile gladden other hearts than ours! -Pour the rich odours round! "We haste! the chosen and the lovely bringing; Love still goes with her from her place of birth; THE BIRD'S RELEASE. The Indians of Bengal and of the Coast of Malabar bring cages filled with birds to the graves of their friends, over which they set the birds at liberty. This custom is alluded to in the description of Virginia's funeral. See Paul and Virginia. Go forth, for she is gone! With the golden light of her wavy hair, She is gone to the fields of the viewless air; She hath left her dwelling lone! Her voice hath passed away! It hath passed away like a summer breeze, When it leaves the hills for the far blue seas, Where we may not trace its way. Go forth, and like her be free! With thy radiant wing, and thy glancing eye, Thou hast all the range of the sunny sky, And what is our grief to thee? Is it aught even to hear we mourn Doth she look on the tears by her kindred shed? Doth she rest with the flowers o'er her gentle head, Or float on the light wind borne'? We know not-but she is gone! Her step from the dance, her voice from the song, And the smile of her eye from the festal throng;— She hath left her dwelling lone! When the waves at sunset shine, We may hear thy voice, amidst thousands more, In the scented woods of our glowing shore, But we shall not know 'tis thine! Even so with the loved one flown! Her smile in the starlight may wander by, Her breath may be near in the wind's low sigh, Around us-but all unknown. Go forth, we have loosed thy chain! We may deck thy cage with the richest flowers, Which the bright day rears in our eastern bowers, But thou wilt not be lured again. Even thus may the summer pour All fragrant things on the land's green breast, And the glorious earth like a bride be dressed, But it wins her back no more! THE SWORD OF THE TOMB. A NORTHERN LEGEND. The idea of this ballad is taken from a scene in "Stark. ather," a tragedy by the Danish poet Ochlenschlager. The sepulchral fire here alluded to, and supposed to guard the ashes of deceased heroes, is frequently mentioned in the Northern Sagas. Severe sufferings to the departed spirit were supposed by the Scandinavian mythologists to be the consequence of any profanation of the sepulchre. See Ochlenschlager's Plays. "VOICE of the gifted elder time! "Voice of the grave! 'tis the mighty hour, On the billow and the blast." Then the torrents of the North, "There shines no sun 'midst the hidden dead, In the shadow of the night. "There is laid a sword in thy father's tomb, And its edge is fraught with thy foeman's doom; But soft be thy step through the silence deep, And move not the urn in the house of sleep, For the viewless have fearful might!" Then died the solemn lay, As a trumpet's music dies, By the night-wind borne away The fir-trees rocked, and the frozen ground From the dreary gloom of their long arcades, But the wind strange magic knows From the gray wood's tossing boughs The pines closed o'er him with a deeper gloom, He passed, in the heart of that ancient wood, Then first a moment's chill But he crossed at length with a deep-drawn breath, Then darkly the words of the boding strain But the gleaming sword and shield Hung o'er that urn, revealed |