Broken each tie, bereft of every friend,
Whose sympathy might consolation lena,
And musing on each vain and earthly toy,
Walk'd the once gay and still brave Oleroy.
Thus lost in thought, unconsciously he stray'd,
When a dark forest wild around him laid.
In vain he tried the beaten path to gain,
He sought it earnestly, but sought in vain;
At length o'ercome, he sunk upon the ground,
Where the dark ivy twined its branches round;
Sudden there rose upon his wond'ring ear,
Notes which e'en angels might delighted hear.
Now low they murmur, now majestic rise,
As though "some spirit banished from the skies"
Had there repair'd to tune the mournful lay,
"And chase the sorrows of his soul away."
They ceas'd when lo! a brilliant dazzling light
Illumed the wood and chas'd the shades of night;
He raised his head, there stood near Oleroy,
The beauteous figure of a smiling boy;
Across his shoulder hung an ivory horn,
With jewels glittering like the rays of morn;
In his white hand he held the tuneful lyre,
And in his eyes there beam'd a heavenly fire;
Approaching Oleroy, he smiling cried,

You hate the world and all its charms deride, You hate the world and all it doth contain, Condemn each joy, and call each pleasure pain ; Then come, he sweetly cried, come follow me, Another world thy sorrowing eyes shall see.

No sooner said than swift the smiling boy
Led from the bower the wond'ring Oleroy.
Beneath a tree three sylph-like forms recline,
Each form was beauteous, and each face benign;

Beside them stood a chariot dazzling bright,
Yoked with two beauteous swans of purest white;
They mount the chariot, and ascend on high,
They bend the lash, on winged winds they fly,
Above the spacious globe they stretch their flight,
That globe seem'd now but as a cloud of night.
Swift towards the moon the white swans bend their

way,

And a new world its treasures doth display.

They halt; before them rocks and hills are spread,
And birds, and beasts, which at their footsteps fled.
Another moon emits a softer ray,

And other moon-beams on the waters play:
They wander on, and reach a darksome cave
Against whose side loud roars the dashing wave:
These words upon its rugged front appear,
"What in your world is lost is treasured here.”
They enter;-round upon the floor are strewn,
The ivory sceptre, and the glittering crown;
Unnumbered hopes there flutter'd on the wing,
There were the lays discarded lovers sing;
There fame her trumpet blew, long, loud, and clear,
Worlds tremble as the deaf'ning notes they hear;
There brooded riches o'er his lifeless heap,
There were the tears which misery's children weep.
There were posthumous alms, and misspent time
Lost in a jingling mass of foolish rhyme.
There was the conscience of the miser;-there
The tears of love,-the pity of the fair;
There, pointing, cried the sylph-like smiling boy,
There's the content which fled you, Oleroy!
Regain it if you can;—then far away,

And reach your world before the dawn of day.

ON SEEING AT A CONCERT, THE PUBLIC PERFORMANCE OF A FEMALE DWARF.

(Written in her fifteenth year.)

Helpless, unprotected, weary,

Toss'd upon the world's wide sea, Borne from those I love most dearly, Say dost thou not feel for me?

Who that hath shrunk 'neath nature's frown
Would court false fortune's fickle smile?
Oh, who would wander thus alone,
Reckless alike of care or toil?

Who would, for fading pleasure, brave
The sea of troubles, dark and deep?
For lo! the gems which deck the wave
Vanish, and "leave the wretch to weep."

"T was not for fortune's smile of light,
Which beams but to destroy for ever;
'T was not for pleasure's bubbles bright,
Which dazzle still, deluding ever:

Oft have I falter'd when alone
Before the crowd I sung my lay,
But ah, a father's feeble moan
Rung in my ears, I dared not stay.

Oh, I have borne pride's scornful look,
And burning taunts from slander's tongue;

Yet more of malice I could brook,

E'en though my heart with grief was wrung.

Adieu! a long-a last adieu-
Once more I launch upon life's sea;
But still shall memory turn to you,
For, stranger, you have felt for me.

ON SEEING A YOUNG LADY AT HER

DEVOTIONS.

(Written in her seventeenth year.)

She knelt, and her dark blue eye was rais'd,
A sacred fire in its bright beam blaz'd,
And it spread o'er her cold pale cheek a light
So pure, so sacred, so clear and so bright,
That Parian marble, tho' glittering fair

'Neath the moon's pale beam, or the sun's broad glare,
Were far less sweet, tho' more dazzlingly bright,
Than that cold cheek array'd in its halo of light.
Oh! I love not the dark rosy hue of the sky
When the bright blush of morn mantles deeply and
high,

But my fond soul adores the pure author of light,
The more when she looks on the broad brow of night;
On myriads of stars glitt'ring far thro' the sky,
Like the bright eyes of saints looking down from on
high

From their garden of Paradise, blooming in Heaven, On the scene sleeping sweet 'neath the calm smile of even.

I love not the cheek which speaks slumber unbroken, That heart hath ne'er sigh'd o'er hope's fast fading token;

That bosom ne'er throbbed with half-fearful delight
When it thought on its home in the regions of light,
Or trembled and wept as with fancy's dear eye
It gaz'd on the beautiful gates of the sky,

And the angels which watch at their portals of light
All peaceful, all sacred, all pure, and all bright :
But I love that pale cheek as it bends in devotion,
Like a star sinking down on the breast of the ocean.

ALONZO AND IMANEL.

(Written in her fifteenth year.)

As he spoke, he beheld on the sea-beaten strand
A form, 't was so airy, so light,

He could almost have sworn by the faith of his land That an angel was wand'ring 'mid rocks and thro' sand,

'Neath the moon-beam so fitfully bright.

He paus'd, as the bittern scream'd loud o'er his head, One moment he paus'd on the shore,

To mark the wild wave as it dash'd from its bed, Tossing high the white spray from its foam-spangled head,

With a fitful and deafening roar.

He caught the wild notes of a song, on the wind,
Ere the tempest-god bore them away,
And they told of a tortured and desperate mind,
To despair's dark shadows for ever resign'd,
Of a heart, once hope-lighted and gay.