Mournfully, oh! mournfully
She gazed on me with a look of love,
That only beams from a mother's eye!
Mournfully, oh! mournfully,
For a moment then to speak, she strove,
But all I heard was a gentle sigh ;
Then turning she waved her thin wan hand,
As beckoning me to follow near; And I, as it were enchanter's wand, Could not but follow her though in fear. "Twas strange, methought, in the hall below, There shone
Thus all unconscious did she seem to rest,
Her spirit passing with that melody:
Till heaving suddenly a long, deep
sigh,
And wild unclosing her yet lustrous
eye,
As she from some dark dream of pain were waking,
She drew her feeble hand unto her breast, And thence love's severed, golden emblem taking,
'Twas strange-but I followed her form Thus to her sire in accents half un
The mid-day sun still brightly shone
On ruined arch and column stone,
Reflecting back its dazzling light; And the heavens above were blue and clear.
Of roaring cataract's vapor surge,
Dim through whose rolling wreaths were
seen,
Huge hanging woods of evergreen
It seemed the dread abode of Death!
Yet a strange, oppressive sense of fear-And all around as far and wide,
A certainty of impending ill
As vision stretched on every side,
Hung round my spirit like a night.
Was that dread dream thus sent to say,
Her life was ebbing fast away?
Oh! might I see her ere she died,
'Twere one bright ray on life's dark tide!
With trembling haste I urged my way
To where the nearest haven lay,
And, as none sought my native land,
Entered a light barque bound for Rome.
The winds awake-the billows foam ;.
Low bends the strained mast like a wand;
The good ship dasheth on her course,
As through embattled ranks the horse-But in the darkling dells between,
Bright pinnacles arose,
With no green tree or misty cloud-
Wrapped only in the glittering shroud
Of everlasting snows!
Alike unmelted there they gleam,
'Neath solar ray and moon's pale beam :
Alike unchanged still brightly lie
And soon to destined port we come,
And in th' imperial city stand.
No curious eye on her I bend,
But hence, without or guide or friend,
My sad and lonely way I wend
Across the mighty range, that bounds
The realms of France and Spanish
grounds,
From Inez' relatives in Spain,
Some tidings of her fate to gain.
Long had 1 toiled a rocky way,
That steep among the mountains lay,
Till at the last I reached a height,
Where burst upon my startled sight,
The sternest scene my roving eyes
E'er saw in nature's varied guise.
Though hurried on by anxious love,
I could not but one moment pause
And gaze around, beneath, above,
As that wild scene upon me rose.
The path, which scarce my mule could
trace,
Wound close about the shaggy base
Of rocky mountain rising high,
In icy grandeur, to the sky;
While dark a thousand feet below
From precipice's beetling brow,
Sunk down a chasm's fearful gorge;
So reeking with the murky breath
Through days to us or foul or fair-
When the burning summer glows,
Or when the stormy winter blows,
Soaring into the cold, thin air,
High and eternally!
Gloomed forests of primeval green,
That ne'er have faded since the time,
Earth joined the planets' choral chime;
But ever still majestic wave
Sternly o'er living nature's grave!
Silence reigned there. Inanimate voice
Was none, save the distant dying noise
Of the falls beneath; and living breath
Dwelt not in those "icy halls" of death,
Save one lone eagle's startling cry,
As he wheeled above through the pale
blue sky!
It was a scene as wild and rude
As God e'er made for solitude!
Long time I stood in silent awe,
Forgetful of that form and face,
My dream had given to death's em-
brace.
A sudden sound! I turned and saw
Another all untrembling gaze
From that deep gulph's o'ermantling
Upon the vapor's billowy surge,
Tossing beneath the sun's steep rays.
He, too, seemed by the scene entranced.
I hailed him; and we both advanced
Along the path with friendly greeting,
As joyed in such wild place at meeting
A human form. But pleased surprise
Changed to cold caution, when our eyes | My blows were showered too rash and Met darkly! 'Twas the hated stranger!
One moment viewing with fixed eye,
That calm, cool gaze and forehead
high-
"And art thou met, accursed ranger
Of sea and land," at length I cried,
"That lur'dst with false vows of love,
To thy cold breast, my gentle dove,
And hast beguiled her for thy bride?"
With scoffing scorn D'Alverne replied;
"I won her love-enough for me!
But as for nuptial vows-she's free,
And might still make a bride for thee,
If that thou love her still!"
For such a guarded fiend;
So when with sabre's sudden dart,
I thought to pierce his venomed heart,
He struck it to the wind!
I heard-but saw not, as it rung
Adown the cliff;—but fiercely sprung-
D'Alverne's bare blade with one hand
grasped-
His throat with one arm closely clasped :
"And think'st thou thus to 'scape thy
This gulph-this gulph shall be thy tomb!"
"What, miscreant, hast thou dared to D'Alverne's pale brow grew black as
Her heart, yet with no holy seal,
Sanction her yielding will?
And was my dark dream all too true?"
"I ever deemed thee dreamy boy,
Fond of each flower and each toy,
That met thy childish, wondering view,"
Said he with bitter sneer;
"If I must die," he fiercely cried,
"Thou livest not to boast I died❞—
Then closed with equal shock.
Rage and despair gave tenfold might :
Long time we struggled to and fro,
As raging billows come and go,
While yawned the dread abyss below,
"And for the maiden, whom you mourn-Till trode he on the treacherous snow,
The love was all her own concern;
A false priest finely served my turn!
Dost not thou see it clear ?"
"Ay! all too clearly for thy life,
Forfeit by villainy and wrong.
Prepare thee, wretch, for mortal strife!
Thou'st cumbered earth too long!"
XV.
Then quick my sabre forth I drew,
And forth as quick his falchion flew,
In sunbeam flashing bright;
And foot to foot, and breast to breast,
We on each other sternly pressed,
In dark and deadly fight!
Calm was his eye, though in it sate
Rankling vengeance and sullen hate;
For he had learned in fiercest strife,
To battle with as cool a hand-
O'er wrath to keep as cool command,
As if it were for sport, not life!
Nor yet was mine a childish skill:
But, that the cause of all my ill,
Should taunt me with insulting look,
Was more than my mad soul could brook.
Not long could such a conflict last;
And fell upon the rock.
Then through the gathered cloud of
Of darkened hopes and gloomy fears,
And wo and grief and bitter tears,
Triumph like sunlight broke !
With bended knee upon his heart,
I tore his grasp of death apart;
"Now look thy last upon the sun-..
Thy race of villainy is run!"
But even as I spoke,
From peak to peak above my head,
A rainbow's glorious hues were spread,
Spanning th' abyss of fear;
And all was hushed so tranquilly,
It seemed the abode of Deity!
Then on my list'ning ear,
God's "still, small voice" did warning
steal,
To break not there life's sacred seal,
But hush my bosom's strife.
One moment I forbore to throw
Him o'er the chasm's beetling brow:
"I dare not hence thy dark soul send;
Lo! see the bow of mercy bend!
Beg, miscreant, for thy life!"
"No!" gasped D'Alverne through Then as his cage the lark doth fly, clenched teeth, 66 never!"
With trembling wing, to meet the day,
"Then take thy flight from earth for- My soul from this mortality
And with the word I hurled him down.
At first a muttered curse arose ;Then-silence! Like a senseless stone He sinks, till darkly round him close The rolling mists-he's past my sight! No living voice-no dying screech, Came to my ear on that far height, Which scarce the cataract's roar could reach!
Shall joy to flee away
To thy far clime's serener light-
A cloudless day, that knows no night!
Few words remain. The setting sun
Had shed his last smile on the world,
And o'er the east, slow sweeping on,
Night her dusk wing unfurl'd.
I wound along the verdant vale,
That leads unto my childhood's home;
Oh God! how doth the heart grow chill All things familiar seemed to hail
Upon a deadly deed of ill,
Which hath untimely sent a soul,
Forth unto its returnless goal!
My aching eyes intensely bending,
I watched D'Alverne's dark form de-
scending,
With bent knee and hushed breath.
Then o'er my shuddering frame did
The exile from his wanderings come.
Still sung sweet songsters in the trees,
That waved their green boughs to the
breeze;
And glassing blue the skies as ever,
Still brightly slumbered on the river:
Yea! all things smiling met my view,
As when I bid them last adieu,
Save the old mansion. Such an air
The dampness of the earth-cold tomb- Of mourning sorrow lingered there,
A chillness, as of death!
Oh Inez! to thy injured shade,
That sin-bought offering was paid!
Yet what avail! It could not save
Suspense into conviction grew,
That my dark, desert dream was true.
The vines, erst wreathed the windows
Thy form from mouldering in the grave! Lay torn and trampled on the ground;
Yet what avail! Could deed like this
Increase thy soul's celestial bliss?
May heaven my darkened spirit free
From guilt incurred through love for
Else can I never live and love
With thee in cloudless climes above!
Lo! now I see thy form divine,
Among the shining myriads shine,
Whose brightness aye more brightly
beaming,
Comes through the golden portals stream-
ing!
My sands of life are nearly run;
Slow beats my pulse-my heart more
slowly;
This bitter task is nearly done;
Soon will the hand that writes lie lowly!
No softly budding plants appeared ;
No flowers their gentle heads upreared:
They'd faded-faded all away,
And silence reigned with mute decay!
I asked an old man, who the while
Did feebly bend him to his toil :
"Old man, with
and sorrow weary,
Why looks thy home so sad and dreary?"
The old man mournfully replied—
""Tis not my home. All they have died,
To whom this house did once belong.
Earth's glory is an empty song!
Here lately lived an aged pair,
With one loved daughter of a form And face and spirit, bright and fair,
Stranger, as e'er in life's rude storm Hath perished. But a wasting grief, Springing from deep, neglected love,
Fell, like the chill frost from above,
Withering branch and leaf!
She faded away, like a waning moon-
The parents to her, were gathered
soon!
Daughter and mother and sire are gone―
Lo! yonder is their memorial stone!
It was a green and grassy grave,
O'er which the weeping willows wave,
Sighing in whispers, faint and slow,
For her, that coldly sleeps below;
Grieving such loveliness, alas!
To the dark earth should early pass!
The shades of evening gathered round;
I flung me on the dewy ground,
And all night long her low roof wet
With tears of deep but vain regret!
But a few feet beneath me, night
Wrapped her, who was my spirit's light.
I called in anguish on her name-
My cries unto the winds were given!
No answer from the mute turf came—
Perchance she heard in heaven!
The loveliest plants that spring from
earth,
But spring alas! to quick decay,
And flowers-from their gentle birth,
How soon they fade away!
Oh! many a flower I've reared with care,
Her lowly grave above;
But aye, as they've begun to bloom,
They've faded slowly on her tomb!
But the loveliest flower that's withered
Was she-my early love!
?
TOLERATION-ITS NATURE AND INFLUENCE.
"A SPIRIT of perfect toleration," says a great man, "is the noblest innovation of modern times." It is the last and greatest triumph of reason over the grosser attributes of our nature, the proudest boast of a modern and more comprehensive system of philosophy, which has as its basis, the purifying and regenerating spirit of true Christianity. Look at man in every situation, in which he has been placed; open the volume of the world's history at what page we will, and the conviction humiliating and melancholy as it is, must force itself unbidden upon us, that the principle of intolerance is closely inwoven with his nature. Impressed with the truth of these reflections, and finding their strong confirmation in every thing we have yet known of mankind, we may be able to estimate in some degree the importance of the stupendous reform which is now accomplishing in the common mind throughout Christendom, diffusing those principles of mutual forbearance and tolerance towards conflicting opinions, which are worthy co-heralds with the light of civilization of the ultimate triumph of mind.
Preconceived notions, whether resulting from a partial examination, or, as is more frequently the case, from the force of mere animal habit, are proverbially the most firmly seated, and of course the most difficult to eradicate. Were these opinions re
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