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His image !-oh, and it is sinful now!
MAL. Your grandsire bids me see you, Madeleine;
MAL. I never wished to see you more. If we had parted—when we parted lastIn kindness, I would never more have sought Your presence; never heard your voice again. But when you asked my hand, I-1-believe me, 'Twas from no change, no want of true affection"Twas from—twas—will you take my hand now, Made
MAL. Yes, I go
MAL. Pray you,
MADE. You will not see me smile again!
MAL. I cannot bear to look upon your face,
MAL. Here it is! I've had it near my heart Since then : and both are withered. Madeleine, 1 asked you not to speak, but I am changeful; I'd hear your voice again, for the last time!
Say but a word!
MADE. Oh, Malcolm !
MAL. “Shall I say “ How constantly my thoughts shall rest on you?
Ah, Madeleine! when we used-long, long ago, 6 To look up to the moon, as we do now, “ It was with happier eyes. I little knew 66 What memories of grief I gathered then, “ To feed on in my heart for evermore;" And now !-God's blessing be around you ever! The blessing of a heart that-fare-you-well! (crosses L.)
MADE. Malcolm ! you leave me, it is come at last;
MADE. Malcolm ! now let us part—as suits us bo
[Exeunt, MADELEINE, R.; MALCOLM, L.
THE BELLE OF THE BALL.
(For one who has a taste and talent for genteel comedy, this piece furnishes a most excellent opportuity for the display of such tasto and talent. It is one of the most elegaut specimens of playful satire in the language. It should be spoken in a fine, freo, off-land style. Though some feeling should be manifested where reference is made to the tender passion.]
YEARS, years ago, ere yet my dreams
Had been of being wise or witty,
Or yawned o'er this infernal Chitty,
Where in my towling-piece and filly,
I tell in love with Laura Lilly.
I saw her at the county ball,
There, when the sounds of flute and fiddle
Of hands across and down the midule,
Of all that sets young hearts romanoing
And then she danced-oh, heaven, her dancing.
Dark was her hair, her hand was white,
Her voice was exquisitely tender,
I never saw a waist so slender;
Shot right and left a score of arrows.
And wondered where she'd left her sparrows.
Of Southey's prose and Wordsworth's sonnets,
Of battles or the last new bonnets;
To me it mattered not a little,
Through sunny May, through sultry June,
I loved her with a love eternal ; I spoke her praises to the moon,
I wrote them to the Sunday Journal.
That ancient ladies have no feeling ;
See any happiness in kneeling!
Rich, fat, and rather appoplectic; She had one brother just thirteen,
Whose color was extremely hectic. Her grandmother for many a year,
Had fed the parish with her bounty ; Her second cousin was a peer,
And lord-lieutenant of the county. But titles and the three per-cents
And mortgages, and great relations, And India, bonds, and titles, and rents,
0, what are they, to love's sensations ? Black eyes, fair forehead, clustering locks,
Such wealth, snch honors, Cupid chooses He cares as little for the stocks
As Baron Rothschild for the Muses.
She sketched : the vale, the wood, the beach,
Grew lovelier from her pencil's shading : She botanized : I envied each
Young blossom in her boudoir fading:
She made the Catalina jealous ;
For hours and hours to blow the bellows.
She kept an Album, too, at home,
Well filled with all an Album's gloriesPaintings of butterflies and Rome,
Patterns for trimmings, Persian stories, Soft songs to Julia's cockatoo,
Fierce odes to famine and to slaughter,
And recipes for elder water.
Her steps were watched, her dress was noted; Her poodle-dog was quite adored ;
Her sayings were extremely quoted.
As if the taxes were abolished:
As if the opera were demolished.
She smiled on many just for fun,
I knew that there was nothing in it;
Her heart had thoughts of for a minute.
In phrase which was divinely moulded;
Our love was like most other loves,
A little glow, a little shiver,
And “Fly Not Yet” upon the river.
Some hopes of dying broken-hearted;
The usual vows,-and then we parted.
We met again four summers after,
Our meeting was all mirth and laughter!
There had been many other lodgers;
But only Mrs.Something-Rogers.
[This animated and very forcible description of one of the most poculiar and sublime spectacles to be seen on our great South-Western prairies, can be made very telling by bold, rapid declamatiou. Mean. time the piece is as instructive as it is vivid.]
The day before we came in view of the Rocky Mountains, I saw in the greatest perfection that impressive, and,