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and her unhappiness was connected with the very source of all her hope.

She thougbt, and shuddered as the thought arose, that at the moment its object might be in peril,--that he might be past all human hope or fear,—that he might be lying trampled in the indiscriminale ruin of some desperate field,--that he might be dust and air; and she wished for wings to pass over seas and mountains, and be at his side, living or dead.

As the vision grew, she imagined him calling to her from some spot crowded with the dead and dying; she imagined her own weary steps and searching eyes wandering among the wreck of man, unrepelled by night, and agony, and death, in all its forms of terror, till he was found, and she prayed for death. And

may not his spirit be near me now?” sighed she, as her eye followed the fading glow of the heavens; “may it not be on those clouds, looking down upon the narrowness and folly of life, and watching with heightened love and power over those whom it loved and would have protected here?"

Her heart was full; she rose from her seat, and walked about the apartment to relieve herself from the sensation that almost stopped her breath. As she passed, her gown accidentally swept the harp, and it

VOL. II.

1 *

gave a low and melancholy gush of sweet sounds. Unconscious of the cause, she looked upwards, as if they came from the air in response to her dream.

Why," said she, “ shall not the spirits of the dead hear, and remember, and love ? Can the great change destroy the powers of the mind, when the mind itself is imperishable? Where can its wisdom be, but, like our own, in its experience ? and what discipline can be so noble for the heart of the immortal spirit as that which softened and refined, raised and cheered it, in its trials bere? or can those affections which we are commanded to cherish friendship, fondness, the love of parent and child, the deeper and more sacred love that binds for life, be condemned to be extinguished, when all that is good is purified and exalted, when our faith is turned into knowledge, our hope into happiness, and our imperfect homage into the burning adoration of the Seraphin and the Cherubim ??

Her tears flowed, and she gradually felt relieved, and even cheered. She took a volume from the cabinet,-and, as she turned the leaves loosely, a paper of verses fell upon the table. Her curiosity was not then vivid, and she would have returned it to its place, but that its subject was soldiership.

It was a mere ballad in memory of an officer whose rejection by a woman of distinguished beauty had made some noise at the tiine, and who was soon after killed in action.

ALLAN GOWER.

1. They have fought, they have fallen, for their country dear!

Their blood the day has won ;
And many a helmet, and many a spear

Are flung on the heather dun:
The hollow drum has ceased to roll,

It is the evening hour!
Now peace to every parted soul,

And peace to thine, brave Gower !

2. He loved, and his lady's bazel eyes

Were lighted with answering love ;
But clouds will come on summer skies,

And woman's thoughts will rove:
And woman's eyes will be witched by gold,

And faith's hut an April shower ;
What breaking hearts have this story told,

Long ere thine, brave Allan Gower !

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3. He chid her not, though his heart was torn,

Though he felt he was all undone ;
In secret the deadly sting was borne,

Till his spirit grew sick of the sun :
And still, false beauty, he kissed thy chain

With passion's bitter power ;
But the strife is hushed, nor joy nor pain

Can now touch thee, Allan Gower!

4.
Here slumbers the last deep pang of the heart,

Whose pulse was agony ;
Here from the bosom no longer shall start

The spirit's fiery sigh :

Thou art laid on the couch of a warrior's pride ;

And thy love, in her stately bower,
Will yet long to lay down her woes by thy side ;

Now farewell to thee, Allan Gower!

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This ballad, slight as it was, awoke a train of melancholy reveries, and Catherine was mentally wandering over mount and main, when she was startled by the sudden tramp of a horse in the avenue. He came at little less than full speed; his rider was muffled in a blue military cloak, and her heart beat with a thousand conjectures, when the horseman lcaped down, and with a pang of disappointment she saw Philip Courtney! who had already from time to time paid them a hasty visit, and whose attentions to herself had of late become obvious and painful.

He entered the apartment in high spirits ; took Catherine's hand, and pressed it to his lips; she disengaged it with a look of coldness, which seemed to surprise him, and he pursued: “Dear girl, what have 1 done to deserve that glance; I have brought you news that ought to inake me welcome, even if no kinder interest--but I shall say no more on that topic." " Your news,” interrupted Catherine: “ Is it from Spain ?” was on her lips. “ News so unexpected,” said Courtney, sihat I am almost afraid to announce in most welcome tidings. But you have been aveeping. Well, this will dry your tears.

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Ye-1 dread being too abrupt.” His hearer's perturbation and its cause were so obvious, that he took a bitter pleasure in her suspense.

Mrs. Vaughan now entered the room; he turned to her, and, after the first congratulations, demanded a private audience. He had awoke the mother's feelings, and she exclaimed, “ What news of what news of Francis?” interrupted Catherine, thrown off her guard ; " for Heaven's sake, relieve us all from this dreadful

my son ?" 66

Yes,

anxiety!"

What, then,” said Courtney, with a fron,which gave a fierce and fearful expression to his handsome countenance, “is there but one person on earth for whom present or absent you can feel ?” She cast her eyes on the ground, like one convicted of a crime. “Do you forget, Miss Greville, that you have a father ?” “My father, what of my father? does he live? in mercy answer me,” cried Catherine, grasping bis arm, and looking up in his face with intense emotion. and is at this moment on his way to England.” “ Merciful heaven !" cried Catherine, “ am I so happy beyond all my hopes ?” She endeavoured to cross the room,-and, sinking into a chair, a tide of anxious and joyful anticipations rushing into her mind, she covercd ber face with her hands, and remained

6. He does,

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