s?"

To the wizard she flew, saying, "Tell me, oh, tell! Shall my Reuben no more be restored to my eyes "Yes, yes—when a spirit shall toll the great bell Of the mould'ring abbey, your Reuben shall rise!"

Twice, thrice he repeated "Your Reuben shall rise!" And Rose felt a moment's release from her pain; And wiped, while she listen'd, the tears from her eyes, And hoped she might yet see her hero again.

That hero could smile at the terrors of death,

When he felt that he died for the sire of his Rose; To the Oder he flew, and there, plunging beneath, In the depth of the billows soon found his repose.

How strangely the order of destiny falls!—
Not long in the waters the warrior lay,

When a sunbeam was seen to glance over the walls,
And the castle of Willumberg bask'd in the ray!

All, all but the soul of the maid was in light,

There sorrow and terror lay gloomy and blank : Two days did she wander, and all the long night, In quest of her love, on the wide river's bank.

Oft, oft did she pause for the toll of the bell,

And heard but the breathings of night in the air;

Long, long did she gaze on the watery swell,

And saw but the foam of the white billow there.

And often as midnight its veil would undraw,

As she look'd at the light of the moon in the stream,

She thought 't was his helmet of silver she saw,

As the curl of the surge glitter'd high in the beam.

And now the third night was begemming the sky;

Poor Rose, on the cold dewy margent reclined, There wept till the tear almost froze in her eye,

When-hark!-'t was the bell that came deep in the wind!

She startled, and saw, through the glimmering shade,
A form o'er the waters in majesty glide:

She knew 'twas her love, though his cheek was decay'd,
And his helmet of silver was wash'd by the tide.

Was this what the Seer of the Cave had foretold?—

Dim, dim through the phantom the moon shot a gleam; "Twas Reuben, but, ah! he was deathly and cold,

And fleeted away like the spell of a dream!

Twice, thrice did he rise, and as often she thought

From the bank to embrace him, but vain her endeavour!

Then, plunging beneath, at a billow she caught,

And sunk to repose on its bosom for ever!

THEE, THEE, ONLY THEE.

HE dawning of morn, the daylight's sinking,
The night's long hours still find me thinking
Of thee, thee, only thee.

When friends are met, and goblets crown'd,

And smiles are near, that once enchanted, Unreach'd by all that sunshine round, My soul, like some dark spot, is haunted By thee, thee, only thee.

Whatever in fame's high path could waken
My spirit once, is now forsaken

For thee, thee, only thee.

Like shores, by which some headlong bark
To th' ocean hurries, resting never,
Life's scenes go by me, bright or dark,
I know not, heed not, hastening ever
To thee, thee, only thee.

I have not a joy but of thy bringing,
And pain itself seems sweet when springing
From thee, thee, only thee.

Like spells, that nought on earth can break,

Till lips, that know the charm, have spoken,

This heart, howe'er the world may wake
Its grief, its scorn, can but be broken

By thee, thee, only thee.

WHEN freshly blows the northern gale,

And under courses snug we fly;

Or when light breezes swell the sail,

And royals proudly sweep the sky;
'Longside the wheel, unwearied still
I stand, and, as my watchful eye
Doth mark the needle's faithful thrill,
I think of her I love, and cry,

Port, my boy! port.

When calms delay, or breezes blow

Right from the point we wish to steer; When by the wind close-haul'd we go, And strive in vain the port to near;

I think 't is thus the fates defer

My bliss with one that's far away, And while remembrance springs to her, I watch the sails and sighing say,

Thus, my boy! thus.

But see the wind draws kindly aft,
All hands are up the yards to square,

And now the floating stu'n-sails waft

Our stately ship through waves and air.

Oh! then I think that yet for me

Some breeze of fortune thus may spring, Some breeze to waft me, love, to theeAnd in that hope I smiling sing,

Steady, boy! so.