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By grief, years, weariness—and it may be
in death can tear our names apart, As none in life could rend thee from
my heart. Yes, Leonora ! it shall be our fate To be entwined for ever-but too late!
What is the world?-A wildering maze,
Her victims to ensnare;
All ending in despair.
Down to eternal night:
From darkness unto light.
The Bible, need not stray :
The Fickleness of Love. ALAS! how light a cause may move Dissension between hearts that love! Hearts that the world in vain has tried, And sorrow but more closely tied ; That stood the storm when waves were rough, Yet, in a sunny hour fall off, Like ships that have gone down at sea, When heaven was all tranquillity! A something light as air--a look,
A word unkind or wrongly taken-
A breath, a touch, like this has shaken.
As though its waters ne’er could sever,
Breaks into floods that part for ever. O you that have the charge of love,
Keep him in rosy bondage bound,
He sits, with flow'rets fetter'd round ;-
Is found below far eastern skies,
Lose all their glory when he flies !
Some difference of this dangerous kind, r: By which, though tight, the links that bind 11911'N -The fondest hearts may soon be riven';;
1 B11901 Some shadow in love's summer heaven, Which, though a fleecy speck at first, May yet in awful' thunder burst. D'fhb!
This is a beautiful but true description of the changes that occur almost every day in life,-changes produced by things as light as air—a louka word unkind or wrongly taken a breath a touch. . There are several excellent similes; notice that stone the storm--Like ships that have--A something light as air-hearts seem like broken clouds--Like the stream breaking into floods that part for ever.
OH! heard you yon pibroch sound sad in the gale,
Why speak ye no 'word ?" said Glenara the stern. « And tell me, I charge you, ye clan of my spouse, “ Why fold ye your mantles, why cloud ye your
brows?" So spake the rude chieftain no answer is made, But each mantle unfolding, a dagger display'a. “ I dream'd of my lady, I dream'de of her shroud,” Cried a voice from the kinsmen, all wrathfuland loud; “ And empty that shroud, and that coffin did seem : « Glenara! Glenara! now read me my dream!
Oh! pale grew the cheek of the chieftain I ween;? When the shroud was unclos'd, and no body was seen. Then a voice from the kinsmen spoke louder in scorn'Twas the youth that had lov'd the fair Ellen of Lorn“ I dream'd of my lady, I dream'd of her grief, “ I dream'd that her lord was a barbarous chief ; « On a rock of the ocean fair Ellen did seem : " Glenara! Glenara! now read me my dream !" In dust low the traitor has knelt to the ground, And the desert reveal'd where his lady was found ; From a rock of the ocean that beauty is borne ;, , Now joy to the house of fair Ellen of Lorn!
Song, from the Lady of the Lake.
Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er,
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking;
Days of danger, nights of waking.
Hands unseen thy couch are strewing;
Every sense in slumber dewing.
Armour's clang, or war-steed champing,
Mustering clan, or squadron tramping.
At the day-break from the fallow,
Booming from the sedgy shallow.
· Here's no war-steed's neigh and champingsbaia Shouting clans, for squadrons trampingano bora
2":"busłą vuoy I 0? Huntsman,, rest! thy chase is done, 971692 ne
While our slumberous spells assail you, idt oT
Bugles here shall sound reveillie.
Sleep! thy hounds are by thee lying 312 14.5
How thy gallant steed lay dying.
syl Here no bugles sound reveillie.
* B1 wil
Kemble's Address on taking a Final Leave of the
Edinburgh Stage. As the worn war-horse, at the trumpet's sound, Erects his mane, and neighs, and paws the ground,