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From the Lady's Book.

Beauty and Fashion.

Said Beauty to Fashion, as they sat at the toilette,
"If I give a charın you are certain to spoil it;
And really, dear madam, you often resort
To such very odd fancies my work to distort,
I hope you wont think me ill natured or vain,
But I scarce know my own when I see it again."]
Thus Beauty rau on-and thus Fashion replied-
"Who does most for the sex, Miss, shall fairly be tried;
For my claim to their gratitude can't be denied.
Your nymphs, with their forms, their complexions, their

features,

What are they without me, but poor awkward crea

tures?

But for my assistance I pray you to tell

If you ever could make your most favored Belle?
Besides, Miss, in spite of the favors you boast,
How scarce are your blessings, how scarce is a toast.
A complexion, a shape, you confer now and then,
But to one that you give, you refuse it to ten,
Now, I am impartial, and but for my aid,

Both Venus and Cupid might throw np their trade,
And even your Ladyship die an old maid."

With a toss of disdain and a look in the glass

all our thoughts, recur to a better illustration than that of the insect called the cut-wasp.

"Some commentators, perhaps, might say the cutting down was like that of the mower's scythe, which crops a flower. But if the dandy-or, indeed, any other human creature -were thus cut down, how could he flee away? how could he run when his legs were cut off?-For the text continues-he fleeth away. It is plainly proved therefore, that our very much cut down, in the manner of a cutinterpretation is right: for, though a man be wasp, it does not deprive him of the power of running. On the contrary he fleeth away because he is a dandy. He does nothing for a livelihood. He is either above any useful employment, or below it. He is either too proud to atteud to any business, or he is too insignificant to be entrusted with any. Certain it is, that he does nothing which can

"Ah! Fashion," said Beauty, "that vaunt may not benefit mankind, or procure himself an honest

pass:

The most that your vot'ries can ever obtain

Is the heartless regard of the Light and the Vain;
They may sparkle, 'tis true, for a while in the ring,
But soon pass away-quite an unnoticed thing,
Like the fast-fading hue of the butterfly's wing.
The nymph that's indebted to you for her power,
Will find it can only endure in the hour

When Love and when Reason desert the domain
That Folly and you for a moment may reign."

From the Philadelphia Spy.

On Dandyism.

livelihood. He gets in debt, whenever he can obtain credit. He runs up a bill with his landlord, his tailor, his hatter, his cordwainer, This laundress, and so forth. He is pushed for payment; he makes fair promises; he fails to fulfil them: and, when his word will no longer be taken, he runs away. He makes his exit between two days, and―

"Continueth nct. This brings us to the last division of our discourse. The dandy has come forth like a flower; he is cut down, like

"He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down: heunto a cut-wasp; he hath fled away, or, in fleeth away, and continueth not."

other words, he hath absconded; and he con"This is a most accurate descripton of a has fled away. He continued not in the place tinueth not, for the very good reason that he modern dandy. He cometh forth like a flower: of his former residence, and the probability is, -that is to say, he shows himself to the world that he will not long continue in his new one. like a flower; he comes forth like a gay tulip. The reason is obvious; he is a dandy, and flaunting with a dickey, false collar, and ruf- therefore does nothing for a livelihood; he fles. He is fond of showing himself in public; does nothing for a livelihood, and therefore and by continually parading himself where he has no business, excites a strong suspicion in cannot be expected to pay for one; he does the beholders, that he comes for no other pur-credit; he loses his credit, therefore he can no not pay for one, and therefore shortly loses his pose than to attract the gaze of the multitude. longer get trusted; he can no longer get trust"But his coming forth like a flower is noted, and therefore he picks up his all, and runs his only characteristic; he is cut down: or, And wherever he goes, the same result other words, he is nearly divided in the mid- will follow. He will flee away, and continue dle, like a cut-wasp. Reader, didst thou ever see one of those industrious insects at work,

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Such is the natural consequence of being in a summer's day?-we say at work, and in dandy; and if this result do not follow in that respect the insect differs from the dandy, every instance, it is no fault of his, but rather whose shape only, and not his habits, we in the effect of some peculiarity of circumstances, tend to compare with the cut-wasp-we say a wealthy father, who will support him in his over which he has no control. He may have didst thou ever behold one of these insects

gathering moist clay in a mud-puddle-whence lowery appearance, his flourishes and his danthey are sometimes called mud-wasps?-mark yism; or he may be blessed with a rich how he rolls it up and bears it off to build him uncle, or aunt, or some clever friend, who will an house. But herein he differs entirely from sustain him, and enable him to cut a figure in the dandy, the least of whose thoughts are these things do not happen to every dandy, the most improved cut-waspish style. But ever employed in building an house or doing and rarely to any for a great length of time.any other good thing. But it is not so much The natural result is as we have stated. If a the industry of the insect that we would have thee note as his figure-the very exact protofoolish young fellow-and none but foolish type of a dandy. He is so nearly cut in two ones ever do the like-cometh forth like a in the middle, that one would suppose, in the ower, and is cut down, ten to one, in a very joining of the upper, to the lower part of the short time, the rest of the text will come to creature, there was scarcely room for useful pass, for he will flee away and continue not." connexion, and that the passage was quite too Darrow for the conveyance either of blood. NEW CONUMDRUMS.-Why is a military breath, or food. In a similar manner, the watchlight like a certain resinous gum ?dandy is cut down; so that we could not in Because it is camp fire-(camphire.)

Cousin Mary—a character.

the fantastic carving of hoar frost, the richAbout four years ago, passing a few days ness of Gothic architecture, or of that which with the highly educated daughters of some so much ressembles it, the luxurient fancy of friends in this neighborhood, I found domes-old point lace. That was her only accomticated in the family a young lady, whom I plishment, and a rare artist she was-muslin shall call as they called her, Cousin Mary. and net were her canvass. She had no French She was about eighteen, not beautiful perhaps, either, not a word; no Italian; but then her hut lovely, certainly, to the fullest extent of English was racy, unhackneyed, proper to that loveliest word-as fresh as a rose; as fair the thought to a degree that only origina! as a lily; with lips like winter berries-thinking could give. She had not much readdimpled, smiling lips; and eyes of which ing except of the Bible and Shakespeare, and Richardson's novels, in which she was learned; nobody could tell the colour, they danced so incessantly in their own gay light. Her figure but then her powers of observation were was tall, round, and slender; exquisitely well sharpened and quickened in a very unusual proportioned it must have been, for in all degree, by the leisure and opportunity afforded attitudes, (and in her innocent gaiety she was for their development, at a time of life when scarcely ever two minutes in the same) she they are most accute. She had nothing to distract her mind. Her attention was always was grace itself. She was, in short, the very picture of youth, health, and happiness. No awake and alive. She was an excellent and one could see her without being prepossessed curious naturalist, merely because she had in her favour. I took a fancy to her the mo-goue into the fields with her eyes open; and ment she entered the room, and it increased knew all the details of rural management, every hour in spite of, or rather perhaps for domestic or agricultural, as well as the pecucertain deficiencies, which caused poor Cousin liar habits and modes of thinking of the peaMary to be held exceedingly cheap by their santry, simply because she had lived in the country, and made use of her ears. Then she accomplished relatives. She was the youngest daughter of an officer was fanciful, recollective, new; drew her imof rank, dead long ago; and his sickly widow ages from real objects, not from their shadows having lost by death, or that other death, in books. In short, to listen to her, and the marriage all her children but this, could not, young ladies her companions, who, accomfrom very fondness, resolve to part with her plished to the height, had trodden the educadarling for the very purpose of acquiring the tion-mill till they all moved in one step, had commonest instruction. She talked of it, in-lost sense in sound, and ideas in words, was enough to make us turn masters and goverdeed, now and then, but she only talked; so that in this age of universal education, Mary nesses out of doors, and leave our daughters C. at eighteen, exhibited the extraordinary and grandaughters to Mrs. C's. system of nonphenomenon of a young woman of high family instruction. I should have liked to meet with whose acquirements were limited to reading, another specimen, just to ascertain whether writing, needlework, and the first rules of the peculiar charm and advantage arose from arithmetic. The effect of this let-alone system, the quick and active mind of this fair ignorant, combined with a careful seclusion from all or was really the natural and inevitable result improper society, and a perfect liberty in her of the training; but alas! to find more than country rambles, acting upon a mind of great one accomplished young lady, in this accompower and activity, was the very reverse of plished age, is not to be hoped for. So I what might have been predicted. It had admired and envied; and her fair kinswoman produced not merely a delightful freshness pitied and scorned, and tried to teach; and Mary never made for a learner, and as full and originality of manner and character, a piqnant ignorance of those things of which of animal spirits as a school-boy in the holione is tired to death, but knowledge, possitive, days, sang, and laughed, and skipped about from morning till night. accurate, and various knowledge. She was, to be sure, wholly unaccomplished; knew It must be confessed, as a counter-balance nothing of quadrilles, though her very motion to her other perfections, that the dear Cousin was dancing; nor a note of music, though she Mary was, as far as great natural modesty used to warble like a bird, sweet snatches of and an occasional touch of shyness would let old songs as she skipped up and down the her, the least in the world of a romp! She house; nor of painting, except as her taste loved to toss about children, to jump over had been formed by a minute acquaintence styles, to scramble through hedges, to climb with nature into an intense feeling of art. trees; and some of her knowledge of plants She had that real extra sense, an eye for and birds may certainly have arisen from her colour, too, as well as an ear for music. Not delight in these boyish amusements. And one in twenty-not one in a hundred of our which of us has not found that the strongest, sketching and copying ladies could love and the healthiest, and most flourishing acquireappreciate a picture where there was colour ment has arisen from pleasure or accident, has and mind, a picture by Claude, or by our been in a manner self-sown, like an oak of English Claudes, Wilson and Hoffland, as she the forest? Oh, she was a sad romp: as could-for she loved landscape best, because skittish as a wild colt, as uncertain as a butshe understood it best-it was a portrait of terfly, as uncatchable as a swallow! But her which she knew the original. Then he great personal beauty, the charm, grace, and needle was in her hands almost a pencil. lightness of her movements, and above all, never knew such an embroideress-she would her evident innocence of heart, were bribes sit printing her thoughts on lawn, till the of indulgence which no one could withdelicate creation vied with the snow tracery.stand. I never heard her blamed by any

human being. The perfect unrestraint of where she languished in smoke, confinement, her attitudes, and the exquisite symmetry of dependence, and display, (for her sister was a her form, would have rendered her an inval-match-making lady, a manoeuvrer) for about uable study for a painter. Her daily doings a twelvemonth. She then left her house, and would have formed a series cf pictures. I went into Wales-as a governess! Imagine have seen her scudding through a shallow the astonishment causad by this intelligence rivulet, with her clothes caught up just a lit-amongst us all; for I myself, though admiring tle above the ankle, like a young Diana, and the untaught damsel almost as much as I loved a bounding, skimming, enjoying motion, as if her, should certainly never have dreamed of native to the element, which might have be- her as a teacher. However, she remained in come a Naiad. I have seen her on the top- the rich baronet's family where she had commost round of a ladder, with one foot on the menced her employment, They liked her roof of a house, flinging down the grapes that apparently-there she was; and again nothing no one else had nerve enough to reach, laugh- was heard of her for many months, until, haping, and garlanded, and crowned with vine pening to call on the friends at whose house I leaves, like a Bacchante. But the prettiest had originally met her, I espied her fair bloomcombination of circumstances under which ing face, a rose amongst roses, at the drawingever saw her, was driving a donkey cart up a room window-and instantly with the speed hill one sunny windy day, in September. It of light was met and embraced by her at the was a gay party of young women, some in hall-door.

open carrieges of different descriptions, bent to There was not the slightest perceptible see a celebrated prospect from a hill called difference in her deportment. She still boundthe Ridges. The ascent was by a steep nar-ed like a fawn, and laughed and clapped her row lane, cut deeply between sand-banks, hands like an infant. She was not a day crowned with high feathery hedges. The older, or graver, or wiser, since we parted.road and its picturesque banks lay bathed in Her post of tutoress had at least done her no the golden sunshine, whilst the autumnal sky, harm, whatever might have been the case intensely blue, appeared at the top as through with her pupils. The more I looked at her an arch. The hill was so steep that we had the more I wondered; and after our mutual all dismounted, and left our different vehicles expressions of pleasure had a little subsided, I in charge of the servants below; but Mary. could not resist the temptation of saying "So to whom as incomparably the best charioteer, you are really a governess?"-"Yes."—"And the conduct of a certain nondescript machine, you continne in the same family?"—"Yes." a sort of donkey curricle, had fallen determin-| "And you like your post?"-"O yes, yes!" ed to drive a delicate little girl, who was-"But my dear Mary, what could induce afraid of the walk, to the top of the eminence. you to go?"-" Why, they wanted a governShe jumped out for the purpose, and we fol-less, so I went."-"But what could induce lowed, watching and admiring her as she won them to keep you?" The perfect gravity her way up the hill: now tugging at the and earnestness with which this question was donkeys in front with her bright face towards put, set her laughing, and the laugh was echothem and us, and springing alone backwards ed back from a group at the end of the room, -now pushing the chaise from behind-now which I had not before noticed-an elegant running by the side of her steeds, patting and man in the prime of life showing a portfolio caressing them-now soothing the halftright- of rare prints to a fine girl of twelve, and a rosy ened child-now laughing, nodding, and shak-boy of seven. "Why did they keep me?ing her little whip at us-till at last she stop-Ask them," replied Mary, turning towards ped at the top of the ascent, and stood for a them with an arch smile. "We kept her to moment on the summit, her straw bonnet teach her ourselves," said the young ladyblown back, and held on only by the strings;" We kept her to play cricket with us," said her brown hair playing on the wind in long her brother." We kept her to marry," said natural ringlets; her complexion becoming the gentleman, advancing gaily to shake hands every moment more splendid from exertion, with me. "She was a bad governess, perredder and whiter; her eyes and her smile haps; but she is an excellent wife-that is her brightening and dimpling; her figure in its true vocation." And so it is. She is, indeed, simple white gown, strongly relieved by the an excellent wife; and assuredly a most fordeep blue sky, and her whole form seeming to tunate one. I never saw happiness so sparkdilate before our eyes. There she stood under ling or so glowing; never saw such devotion the arch formed by two meeting elms, a Hebe, to a bride, or such fondness for a step-mother, a Psyche, a perfect goddess of youth and joy.as Sir W. S. and his lovely children show to The Ridges are very fine things altogether, the sweet Cousin Mary. especially the part to which we were bound, a turfy breezy spot, sinking down abruptly like A Great Cavern Discovered. a rock into a wild foreground of heath and About six weeks ago, as some workmen forest, with a magnificent command of distant were employed in quarrying stones in a objects; but we saw nothing that day like the limestone quarry situated within seven miles figure on the top of the hill. of the town of Caher, and six miles of After this I lost sight of her for a long time. Michelstown, on the old line of road between She was called suddenly home by the danger-the said towns, they discovered, at the disous illness of her mother, who, after languish-tance of 20 feet from the surface, an opening ng for some months, died; and Mary went to into the rock capable of admitting the body of ive with a sister much older than herself, and one person. Prompted by curiosity, one of richly married is a manufacturing town, the men entered the opening, and proceeded

along a sloping declivity which terminated is amply compensated for the absence of those at the distance of 40 or 50 feet from the en-ornaments by the view of a deep and rapid trance, in an abrupt descent of about 20 feet. river, which urges its subterraneous course Unable to proceed further, he returned, and through the middle of the cave, and which, in having procured a ladder, he, accompanied by all probability, is the same which passes cave, called the two or three of the workmen, proceeded to through another celebrated explore the cavern. Having descended the Sheeps Cavern," a place too well known to ladder, they proceeded along the passage 300 offer any comment upon.-Correspondant of yards in length, 40 feet in breadth, and the Tipperary Free Press.-Several beautifulgenerally between 30 to 40 feet in height,at the specimens of spar, &c. have been brought termination of which a superb cavern nearly from the cavern and left for inspection at the one mile in circumferaece, presented itself to office of the Tipperary Free Press.

From the Mercantile Journal.

THE DYING WORDS OF AN OLD EDITOR,

their view. This grand cavern seemed to be supported by about 150 crystal columns varying in height from 30 to 40 feet, and in diameter from 1 to 8 feet. In the middle of this cavern is placed, a crystalised petrifaction 1780.-My son, I shall soon be gone and you exactly resembling a table, about seven feet will have the management of the concern.in length and two in breadth, surmounted Never expect to sustain your paper upon any with crystal candelabras, of the most curious other foundation than its merits. Be prudent, Work hard. Be construction. The subject would be endless temperate and upright.

were I to enumerrte the variety of surprising civil to every body, and particulurly to your creations which nature has displayed in this customers. If they call themselves your pat- substerraneous palace. At the distance of 7 or rons, I wouldn't mind it Billy, let them call 800 yards, and immediately opposite the themselves nabobs, if they please, so long as entrance, lies another passage, which led they pay for the paper; never exhibit that them into what they called the lowor cave, aristocracy, which is a part of the original sin, which is about three quarters of a mile in that is in us all, in any such way, for it will circumferance supported like the former lo you no good, my son. Above all things, never put in the power of cave, by lofty pillars, and decorated with the most fanciful productions. Having proceed- any man to say, that is our paper, we subed through this cave, they discovered an scribe twenty dollars a-piece to keep it up; appeture, which having ascended by a flight for as sure as you live, Billy, sooner or later, of eight steps, a sight presented itself to their something will be printed that somebody won't view capable of impressing the strongest like; and then somebody will drop his subemotions of surprise on the mind of the scription to get your paper down. One man spectator. It would be useless for me to will withdraw, or become a little water-gruattempt a description of this astonishing hall, elly towards you, because you are too severe as nothing less than the descriptive powers upon sinners and upon sin; and another beof Sir Walter Scott, could render it even cause you are not half severe enough. Amoderate justice; suffice it to say, that it is another will give you that halfway support bout three miles in circumferǝnce, supported, that will be more injurious than no support like the other caves, with innumerable at all; and if your paper is heartily praised pillars, and adorned with almost perfect imi-by some old-fashioned honest-hearted man, he tations of all that art and nature presents to will reply, in prudent, and well balanced our view. However, I cannot forbear re-phraseology, that he does not know, but it is marking that in the centre of this magnificent so, and he does not know as it is so. Every hall, depending from its roof, appears a pet morning directly before prayers, read attenJack ass, and rifaction resembling the body of a horse, thro' tively the fable of the Old man, which, at the distance of 15 feet from the floor little boy. Never omit it Billy, as long as you issues a stream of pure water, which. after live. You will have many things to encoun forming several evolutions on its crystalized ter, that are not very agreeable. Anonymous hed, disappears with hollow'murmurings at the letters of an impudent character, burn at once, furtherest extremety of the hall. Through never mention them to any body, not even to an opening to the right, in the last mentioned your wife. Where a customer drops the pahall they descended, by a flight of ten o per, do not betray your displeasure, by an twelve steps, to a cavern called the long cave, extraordinary appearance of civility, when which is about one mile and a half in circum-you happen to meet him again. Never run ference, supported in like manner by superb about to pick up crumbs of comfort, nor ask columns, and adorned with many of the imi-any man what he thinks of this, that, or the tations of nature and art. Amongst the imita- other article in your paper which you wrote tions of art is a hollow crystalized petrifaction yourself Billy. Be cautious in putting your resembling a drum, which, when struck upon, advertisements: I lost a good advertising ensproduced a sound, the reverberation of tomer by placing another man's advertisement With your good The which will continue for several minutes.-of molasses before his own. Having proceeded through the last mentioned common sense you will do well enough cave, they came to a fisure in its right side. public will respect you for your independence; which led them into what they called the but you must remember that there is the same cellar cave. This cave, unlike the rest is not difference between real and affected indepensupported by pillars, nor adorned with those dence, as between real nutmegs and the article productions of nature for which the others manufactured at home: In a word, fear God, are so highly appreciated; but the, spectator and shame the Devil.

From the Albany Argus.

quility-again bidding it to heave and swell, [A young friend of mine, while taking a short voy by the magic of its viewless power. Without age for his health, a few weeks since, rose one morning it what would be the world? in a state of mental derangement and threw himself without light; yet possessing it as we do, how As a creation

from the deck of the vessel. lle was never seen af-
terward.]

There was no bell to peal thy funeral dirge,
No nodding plumes to wave above thy bier
No shroud to wrap thee but the foaming surge,
No kindly voices thy dark way to cheer;
No eye to give the tribute of a tear.
Alone, “unknell'd, uncoffin'd," thou hast died,
Without one gentle mourner lingering near;
Down the deep waters thou unseen didst glide,
.With Ocean's countless dead to sluniber side by side.

Thou sleep'st not with thy fathers. O'er thy hed
The flowers that deck their tomb may never wave,
To plead remembrance for thee, o'er thy head
No sculptur'd marble e'er shall rise. Thy grave
Is the dark boundless deep, whose waters lave

The shores of empires. When thou sought'st thy rest
Amid their silent depths, they only gave
A circling ripple, then with foaming crest
The booming waves roll'd on, o'er their unconscious
guest.

"Tis said that far beneath the wild waves rushing,
Where sea-flowers bloom aud fabled Peris dwell,
That there the restless waters cease their gushing,
And leave their dead within some sparkling cell,
Where gems are gleaming, and the lone sea shel
I breathing its sweet music. And 'tis said
That Time, who weaveth over all a spell
Of blight and ruja, o'er the Ocean's dead
He passeth slightly on, with trackless silent tread.

Then, though no marble e'er shall rise for thee,
No monument to mark thy last long home,
Thine ocean grave unhonor'd shall not be,
The coral insect there shall rear e tomb
That age shall ne'er destroy; and there shall bloom
The fadeless ocean flower. And though the glare
Of the bright sun-beams ne'er shall light its gloom,
Yet glancing eyes and forms unearthly fair
Shall throng around thy couch, and bymu a requiem

there.

Now fare the well! I will not weep that thou

Didst pass so soon away; for though thou wert
Still in thy boyhood's prime, and thy fair brow
Undimned by age; yet sad was thy young heart,
For thou had'st seen friend after friend depart,
And love had thrown his wild and burning spell
Around thee, and with sly insiduous art

Had maddened thee. Then sounded loud the knell

Joes it discompose the soberest plans of reason? How do the loftiest bulwarks of stern philosophy bow down and disappear before the fragrance of its breath? It is the poetry of thought, when reason slumbers on her stately throne, or wanders away in happy dreams. It is scarcely to be defined, for it seems in a perpetual halo of soft light, which dazzles while it fascinates the mind's eye. It is to the spirit what sunshine is to the flower-luring the fragrance from its bosom, and bringing out all the energies of its young nature, or as the hand of beauty to the slumbering lute passing over the silent chords, till "it doth discourse most eloquent music."

I had a young friend, just rising into manhood-fiery and unsettled as the warrior's steed in battle, his career was unguided by prudence or thought. A never failing flow of spirits made him always agreeable-he was full of sense and frolic. He could bring a tear to your eye, before the smile had left your Hip-he was all hope and happiness..

Suddenly he stood before me an altered being-his eye had grown melancholy and full of meditation. Its moisture was often succeeded by a flash; and its fire again extinguished in the trembling tear. He shunned the rude clamour of the bustling would, and would steal away into some solitary recess, and in the still shade of the forest ponder on the sweetness of his own sorrow. His mind became almost a world of itself, and thousands of visions rose obedient, at the call of creative thought; his soul lifted high on fancy's wing, would explore in its wild and beautiful career, the fathomless regions of imagination, through all the variety of its magnificent domain. He loved-deeply, devotedly. It was more than love; it was adoration. The object of his pas

Of all thy bright young dreams. My earliest friend,sion was all that woman could be. There is

farewell!

The Dream of Love.

no object, in all creation, half so splendid as such a being--tbe charms that are diffused through the whole universe seemed gathered together in her.

[By Charles Ludlow, of Richmond, Va.] I have seen a bubble blown into its circular When the sun is going down in the west, and indescribable beauty; on its brilliant sur-he leaves behind him a track of bright light, face were painted the most inimitable pictures but it is insipid when compared to the light of of light and life; grateful clouds floated in the her eye. The fragrance of the rose was not bosom of the mimic sky; a tiny sun irradiated so delicious as the warmth of her breaththe little world, and cast all the magic of light music could make no melody like the thrilling and shade over a landscape of most bewitching tones of her voice. Her motion was more splendor. A creation, bright as a poet could graceful than the heave of the sea, or the magine, glowed before me, but a wave of the change of the cloud, and the magic of mind, air broke the spell of its transitory but beau- gleaming through all her words, and looks, tiful existence, and it was gone. It was like and actions, shed around her a charm more a dream of love. If there is one happy being grateful than Arabian incense. in creation, it is the lover in the luxury of his No wonder my hero bowed down before visionary aspiration-if there is a single bliss-her; no wonder that the sound of her voice ful moment, like a star sparkling in the shad- was always in his ear, that her image was beowy firmament of life, it is that which dis- tore him in his daily occupations, and bore a covers a long nourished affection to be mutu-part in the mysterious changes of his dream. al. There was no affectation in her nature, and

The moon, as she rides on through her in-she confessed she loved him-they seemed finity of space, has not a greater effect upon created for each other-and who would have the ocean-tide, than has the passion of love up-believed that fate-but I am digressing. on the tide of human thought, now permitting There is something very melancholy in the it to settle down into a state of temporary tran-reflection that any woman can die; but to him

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