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No path leads thither, 'tis not nigh

To any pasture-plot;
But cluster'd near the chattering brook,

Lone hollies mark'd the spot.


Those hollies of themselves a shape

As of an arbour took,
A close, round arbour; and it stands

Not three strides from a brook. f

Within this arbour, which was still

With scarlet berries hung, Were these three friends, one Sunday morn,

Just as the first bell rung.

'Tis sweet to hear a brook, 'tis sweet

To hear the Sabbath-bell, 'Tis sweet to hear them both at once

Deep in a woody dell.

His limbs along the moss, his head

Upon a mossy heap,
With shut-up senses, Edward lay :
That brook e'en on a working day

Might chatter one to sleep.

And he had pass'd a restless night,

And was not well in health ;

* Some hollies mark the spot.—1809. + From the brook.-10.

The women sat down by his side,

And talk'd as 'twere by stealth.

“The Sun peeps through the close thick leaves,

See, dearest Ellen ! see ! "Tis in the leaves, a little sun,

No bigger than your ee;

A tiny sun, and it has got

A perfect glory too;
Ten thousand threads and hairs of light,
Make up a glory gay and bright

Round that small orb so blue.”

And then they argued of those rays,

What colour they might be ; Says this, “They're mostly green;" says that,

They're amber-like to me."

So they sat chatting, while bad thoughts

Were troubling Edward's rest; But soon they heard his hard quick pants,

And the thumping in his breast.

“ A mother too !” these self-same words

Did Edward mutter plain ;
His face was drawn back on itself,

With horror and huge pain.

Both groan'd at once, for both knew well

What thoughts were in his mind;

When he waked up, and stared like one

That hath been just struck blind.

He sat upright; and ere the dream

Had had time to depart,
"O God, forgive me !" (he exclaim'd)

“I have torn out her heart."

Then Ellen shriek'd, and forthwith burst

Into ungentle laughter;
And Mary shiver'd, where she sat,

And never she smiled after.

Carmen reliquum in futurum tempus relegatum.
To-morrow! and To-morrow! and To-morrow !-


A DRAMATIC FRAGMENT. SANDOVAL. You loved the daughter of Don

Manrique ? Earl Henry.

Loved ? Sandoval. Did you not say you woo'd her ? Earl Henry.

Once I loved Her whom I dared not woo ! Sandoval.

And woo'd, perchance, One whom you loved not ! Earl Henry.

Oh! I were most base, Not loving Oropeza. True, I woo'd her, Hoping to heal a deeper wound; but she

Met my advances with impassion'd pride,
That kindled love with love. And when her sire,
Who in his dream of hope already grasp'd
The golden circlet in his hand, rejected
My suit with insult, and in memory
Of ancient feuds pour'd curses on my head,
Her blessings overtook and baffled them !
But thou art stern, and with unkindly countenance
Art inly reasoning whilst thou listen'st to me.
Sandoval. Anxiously, Henry! reasoning

anxiously. But Oropeza

Earl Henry. Blessings gather round her! Within this wood there winds a secret passage, Beneath the walls, which opens out at length Into the gloomiest covert of the garden.The night ere my departure to the army, She, nothing trembling, led me through that gloom, And to that covert by a silent stream, Which, with one star reflected near its marge, Was the sole object visible around me. No leaflet stirr'd ; the air was almost sultry ; So deep, so dark, so close, the umbrage o'er us! No leaflet stirr'd ;-yet pleasure hung upon The gloom and stillness of the balmy night-air. A little further on an arbour stood, Fragrant with flowering trees- I well remember What an uncertain glimmer in the darkness Their snow-white blossoms maderthither she led


To that sweet bower! Then Oropeza trembled

I heard her heart beat—if 'twere not my own.

Sandoval. A rude and scaring note, my friend ! Earl Henry.

Oh ! no !
I have small memory of aught but pleasure.
The inquietudes of fear, like lesser streams
Still flowing, still were lost in those of love :
So love grew mightier from the fear, and Nature,
Fleeing from pain, shelter'd herself in joy.
The stars above our heads were dim and steady,
Like eyes suffused with rapture.—Life was in us :
We were all life, each atom of our frames
A living soul—I vow'd to die for her :
With the faint voice of one who, having spoken,
Relapses into blessedness, I vow'd it :
That solemn vow, a whisper scarcely heard,
A murmur breathed against a lady's ear.
Oh! there is joy above the name of pleasure,
Deep self-possession, an intense repose.
Sandoval [with a sarcastic smile). No other than

as eastern sages paint,
The God, who floats upon a lotos-leaf,
Dreams for a thousand ages ; then awaking,
Creates a world, and smiling at the bubble,
Relapses into bliss.
Earl Henry

Ah! was that bliss
Fear'd as an alien, and too vast for man?
For suddenly, impatient of its silence,
Did Oropeza, starting, grasp my forehead.
I caught her arms; the veins were swelling on them.
Through the dark bower she sent a hollow voice ;-
“Oh! what if all betray me? what if thou ? "

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