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SONG OF THE AUTUMN LEAVES. Hark! sisters, hark to the wailing breeze, As its sad voice sighs through the bending trees : The low, faint tones are whispering nearThey tell we no longer may linger here. Winter is come, with his gloomy train : His tread may be traced over valley and plain ; He hath shaded the pure bright blue of the sky, And darksome clouds o'er its surface fly; He hath hidden the light of the golden sunUnseen he sinks, when his race is run ; In a garment of ice he hath bound the rillIts merry song he hath bade be still ; The flowers of summer have drooped and diedHis warning frown they may not abide ; His ruthless fingers the leaves have shred From the blushing rose, and the flower lies dead ; On the fragile lily his breath has blown, And its bloom is withered-its beauty flown; Closed are the violet's deep blue eyesSoft 'mid her emerald leaves she dies; And the balmy bells of the cowslip's flower, That sprinkled the meads like an amber shower, Are gone—all gone. Oh! 'tis sad to find That no flower of the summer is left behind !
She would wander beneath us, with footsteps slow,
S. J. G.
We may not linger : Winter is come ;
In the delicate Spring, when each tender bud
Oh! say thy heart is mine, Mary ;
But say thy heart is mine, And all the ills, in all the world,
Shall not make me repine-Shall not make me repine, Mary,
Though fate should press me sore,
Against our cottage door.
Yes, sweet indeed for thee;
There are for thee and me There are for thee and me, Mary,
When each day's work is o'er, And side by side we sit, sweet bride,
By our own cottage door.
I see the sun's last rays, Mary,
Upon thy rich cheek shine, And I think like a pictured saint thou art,
With that blue eye of thine-
Most beauteous to see:
I see not it, but thee!
A maiden there was, most happy and fair,
Then say thy heart is mine, Mary :
Oh! say thy heart is mine,
How truly I am thine !
Toil will be light for thee ;
Madeline Goneli was the only child of peasants, " Dä sterne isch d’liebe mit all ihrer lust; in one of the most beautiful valleys of Switzer- Sü strahtimer die wärme ins herz und in d'brust; land; but though her parents were of low rank,
Kie sterne am himmel, der schönst nit emol, yet, like many of that class in her country, they
Verklärt mi 80 selig, und macht mer so wohl !". were, comparatively speaking, rich. She was
“A star shines in my heart with such brilliant light, for a short time my schoolfellow, and never
That sadness and grief I never may know; shall I forget my first view of her lovely figure. It makes me so tranquil, so happy, and glad,
She had, a year or two before, left the same I wish it would shine to eternity so ! school; where, as a peculiarly pretty and amiable child, she had been a great favourite; and "From that star all of love and of pleasure I draw; several of my companions remembered her, so
Its rays give me warmth in my heart and my breast ; that when some one said, “ Madeline is come
On no star in the heavens, though lovely and bright,
Can I ever so happily, gloriously rest !" back," there was a general rush to welcome her. I did not see her till dinner-time, and then she
Here Madeline paused, and burst into tears. was seated just opposite me. It was no longer “ I cannot sing that song, Marie.” the pretty child I had heard described, but a
“ Do not, do not, sweet, dear Madeline : I beautiful girl in the first Aush of womanhood. would not grieve you for the world. Forgive Her form had expanded, and was shown to advantage in her costume-a low velvet boddice, my thoughtlessness in asking you." laced over a cambric chemisette, and connected You could not know how dreadful those words
Nay, Marie, there is nothing to forgive. with a velvet collar, fitting close to her throat sound to me now. Oh, friends, dear friends, by massy silver chains; the full sleeves were
may you never suffer like your poor Madeline." also of cambric, and the long, flowing skirt was
And then she told her sad tale, and we wept of rich black silk. Her dress I noticed after and sympathized with her till our kind teacher wards, for then my eyes were irresistibly, at took us to our chambers. tracted to that sweet, mild face, sorrowful it is
I will not attempt to give the tale in her own true, but of heavenly expression, Her rich, words, made so heart-rending from her exbrown hair was braided over her cheeks in soft pressive language, sounding so harsh from most folds, and hung behind in thick plaits, far below lips, but in her gentle voice perfect harmony. her waist; her brow was high, and white as
Her parents were rich, as I have said; and much alabaster, and her full blue eyes, and rosy, of their wealth consisted in cattle, which in pouting lips, were most beautiful
. What evil
, Switzerland, as is well known, are, in the sumthought I, can have cast its shadow over her ? mer, taken to feed on the mountains. Among Who could have the heart to grieve so lovely a the young men who watched the cows was one far creature? But we all soon heard her story; superior to the rest, both in outward appearance for Madeline was simplicity itself, and never and in natural gifts; he played several instrudreamed of hiding a thought of that pure, fond ments, and sang with the greatest taste; he had heart. It was the same evening when my.com- indeed received a good education, for his family panions said they must persuade her to sing, had once been as wealthy as Madeline's. Was " I never could feel half her enchantment till I it surprising that he should look on her with heard her voice.” She resisted at first; but her affection ? and why should not the girl, then friends soon prevailed over her gentle nature. almost a child, admire the handsome youth, I forget the words she first sang, but I know whose hair hung in such golden curls beneath her voice reminded me of the beautiful fountain his large straw hat, generally wreathed with in our play-ground, so liquid and flowing were Alpine flowers? And what harm could there be its tones.
in accepting some of those flowers to wear on “ Madeline," said a merry girl, you should her own fête-day? But Henri was older than sing us 'La Fiancée ;' for I heard in Basle that Madeline, and he knew that her parents, proud you were engaged to the handsomest young of their daughter and of her wealth, would man in the world."
never bestow her on a poor herdsman; so he Madeline turned very pale, but complied in fought against his love, and avoided her. But the following words, of which I have attempted then came the long winter months, when, in to make a rough translation from the Swiss their simple housekeeping, they were so much German :
togetherand Madeline grew more lovely every ** Es schintmere sterne so froh in mis herz,
day, and knew no reason why she should not Und sieder dem ken I kei leid und kei schmerz ;
love better to talk to Henri than to the other Er macht mi so ruehig, 80 selig und froh, shepherds; and when the spring came again, I wött nur er schinte in ebigkeit 80 !
with its leaves and flowers and sunny skies,
how sweet to be rowed across the lake by him, though grave, and sometimes sad, did not lose and to talk of the birds and the cows and the her health, but employed herself continually. chamois, and how she should so love to go with She had evidently not lost all hope. Her lover him to the mountains, and help to watch the wrote to her, and she answered him once or flocks, and make butter and cheese in her twice, but, as we thought, coolly, considering châlet; while he should sing to her, and gar- her great affection for him; but Swiss girls are land her with Alpine roses and Gentianetta. modest, and shy of telling their love. At length Will any wonder that Henri betrayed his secret, these letters ceased, and then she grew still and was found by the angry mother with his more sad, lost her appetite, and never sang to arm round the blushing girl, who had told him us, or spoke of Henri, as she used to do. she loved him better than all the bright flowers, One morning, at the latter end of November sparkling mountain springs, and bleating flocks, --a dull and dreary day, I well rememberbetter than all in which she had hitherto de- when the wind whistled and moaned through lighted most--ay, as well even as her own dear the long galleries, and our double windows were father and mother?
first put on; we were all creeping close round Madeline would not tell what her mother said, the stove, to warm ourselves, when Marie Oser but bitter words they must have been, the burst open the door, crying, “ A letter for Mathought of which could make her sob so deeply. deline! a letter for Madeline !" Poor girl, Henri did not go with the cattle that suinmer, how white and faint she looked when she saw it but stayed with a neighbouring landowner, who was only from her mother! No sooner had she thought highly of his talents, and interceded read the first words, however, than she leaped with the incensed parents on his behalf, but in from her seat with a dreadful scream, which vain. Madeline was kept in the house till her brought our teachers in terror to the room. faded colour obliged them again to permit her “ Read it for me, dear Mademoiselle; I canusual exercise; and now, it may be thought, not see. Read it loud; let all hear the news.' surely she will meet Henri, perhaps run away It was merely a cold and formal announcewith him. Such would probably have been the ment of Henri's marriage! We were at first case in England or France, but not so in stupefied; but soon came a burst of indignation Switzerland. My readers may perhaps think from every one at his perfidy. them cold and unfeeling, but neither Henri nor “ Oh no, no! it cannot be. I will not believe Madeline ever thought of meeting purposely, it till he writes himself. I will wait—I will not after so strict a prohibition. Accidentally they send his ring yet.” sometimes passed each other, and Henri watched Not long had she to wait, poor girl! For a day every night to see the light in her own little or two after came a long, despairing letter from room. At church, too, it is also to be feared Henri himself, telling how he had been inveigled that their eyes and their thoughts would wander by her parents into marrying a girl who had long in spite of themselves; but never did either ever been known to love him, and who had been perdream of marrying without her parent's consent. suaded to swear that he was betrothed to her. Still they had hope; but even this was soon His friends, believing her story, threatened to overcast. A stranger, of middle age, well look- turn him adrift on the world if he did not marry ing, and undoubtedly rich, came to spend some her. He even now madly implored Madeline to time in the valley; he soon perceived Madeline's love him still not to forget him : indeed he superiority to the other girls, and was enchanted seemed in the utmost despair. We loved our with her beauty. He had not heard of Henri, friend too well to forgive the weakness of chaand one day he came and was closeted a long racter which had ruined them both, for what time with her father ; and then she was sent might not time have done for them, if he had for, and told that she was to marry this man in remained firm, like the noble girl who loved a month's time. What a blow for the poor girl! him far too well? We expected to see her faint, At first her senses forsook her ; but when she but we did not understand her. After the first revived, for the first time in her life, as she her-shock she became quite calm, begged us never self said, she refused to obey. How could she? to mention his name to her; for,” said she, Did she not still love Henri? And had she not • it is a sin now to love him," and she folded told him that as long as he was faithful she the ring and other presents, not forgetting many would never love another?
withered flowers, in a blank sheet of paper, “No, mother, I will not marry Henri without without one word of complaint. She went about your consent, but I cannot become the wife of as usual, but grew thin and very pale; so that another."
when, about a month afterwards, her mother Her mother was astonished. Neither entrea- came to fetch her home, even that cold, stern ties, nor threats, nor promises, could shake her woman looked shocked. resolution; and they at length sent her to Mont- “ Can that be our Madeline's mother?” said martre, in hopes that when she no more saw we, as we saw her alight from her charaubanc. her lover she would forget him.
Her face was handsome, but had that harsh, Not so,” said she, kissing a small ring she weather-beaten look, so common among the always wore. “ As long as he is faithful I will peasants of Switzerland, owing to their constant be so too; and I have promised to keep this on exposure to sun and wind without bonnet ; her my finger till I change my mind."
black lace cap, standing out from her face with 'Well, the weeks rolled on, and Madeline, I wires, was anything but becoming, and a round black hat, looking as if seldom used, hung upon They stood together on the moonlit strand, her arm. Oh, how we hated her! We could The loving and beloved ; above them shone scarcely restrain our feelings, and could with | Uncounted stars; while on the gleaming sand difficulty be prevented from expressing our in
The restless waves broke with a hollow moan; dignation before the carriage rolled away, taking All in the sky was calmness, while below our beloved friend for ever from our sight.
A warning spirit breathed of wrong and woe.
But who should listen to that voice? Did not We heard some time after that she had, at
The smile of Fortune beam upon their lot? last, been induced to give her consent to marry A cloud came o'er the moon, and dimness cast the same man who before had sought her, but Awhile on earth, and ere the shadow pass'd, that she did not look likely to live long; and so A fiercer surge than ocean's swept that strand, it proved. On her very bridal day, as the ring The tide of human passion ; for a band was placed on her finger by her husband, she Of dark-browed men, whose law — their leader's fell in a long faint; and before the sun set, her
wordspirit, too gentle to contend with such harsh Found its most fit interpreter the sword, natures, ascended to the home she had long Rushed, like a whirlwind, on that hour of peace, sighed to reach.
And fearful was the momentary strife.
But all hath ended with a single life :
One brave heart's life-blood stained that lonely LOVE.
One cry the night-wind in its passage bore
To other lands—the solitary wail
Which mourned his fall. It sinks-the kinsman 'Tis Love that nerves the gentlest souls to dare
stands Life's greatest perils ; whispers in despair
Beside her now there gleams a snowy sail Sweet words of hope; sustains the sinking heart, O’er yonder sea, and on those fatal sands Which else had failed-had broken. Love! thou art A boat lies waiting for the chief's commands : Some wanderer from a higher, brighter sphere, It waits not long-one victim needs a grave, But lent awhile to cheer our sorrows here.
Her kinsman bears the other o'er the wave. Nay, pause ere such be thy recorded creed !
What though her heart is with the one who died? Seek out the prompter of each darkest deed
In other climes she'll live to be his bride!
Again 'tis night !- the moonbeams brightly sleep Or is it Love, who-all triumphant still
In tranquil beauty on the waveless deep; In every heart hath woke the dream of ill?
There is one spot upon its bosom dark, Oh, Love! thou art a spirit robed in light,
But all is silent in the lonely bark And yet the shadow of thy wings is night!
Which casts that shadow, and in silence stand There was a maiden, beautiful as gleam
Upon her deck the wild and reckless band, The lilies floating on a summer stream
While kneels their leader by a lifeless form
The flower he blighted in his passion's storm :
There is no prayer-could beings such as they,
aim Was but to scatter blossoms on her way;
weepLove-in her girlhood - from a heart, whose claim
There is no voice of mourning on the deep,
As that still form the waters close above-
Was this another of thy triumphs, Love?
THE IMPULSE OF HUMANITY.
BY G. LINNÆUS BANKS,
Alike round present and round future hours,
Author of “ Blossoms of Poesy,” &c.
His hand hath wisely formed; nor take away
The smallest life His goodness hath endowed
For special purposes. And when I see Alas! all dreams are fleeting. There was one The thoughtless wand'rer crush beneath his feet Who roamed in other regions, where the sun The worm that hath not power to 'scape from death, Poured fire into his soul, until it burned
Or wanton schoolboy chase, with vicious soul, With passions which restraint or patience spurned : The short-lived insect borne on Summer's wing, Yet seemed he nought--a kinsman, but no more, It knows not whither-my proud heart leaps forth One who in absence faded from her mind;
With sudden indignation to confront Alas! within that haughty heart he bore
The libeller of my nature, and resent An image by idolatry enshrined,
The sacrilegious insult offered God; A thing to love-to dream of-to adore,
Who, for the glory they should bring Ilis name, As men adored the burning sun of yore.
Made Himself manifest in all that breathe.
FIDDLER'S W E L L.
(A Legend of Cromarly.)
BY ELIZABETH YOUATT, AUTHOR OF "THE BLIND MAN AND HIS GUIDE," E1C.
Why seek for distant marvels, when at home
“ What's in a name?” asks our own immor- ' the sweet companionship of earth, sea, and sky, tal Shakspeare. Ah! a good deal sometimes. were not without their due effect in forming the In confirmation of which we candidly confess character and disposition of those of whom we that we were once more than half tempted to write. Neither will we pretend to deny that in leave the following touching and beautiful legend all probability they also brought about in a great in all its original obscurity, simply because the degree the catastrophe of our simple history. hero's name happened, most unfortunately, to For many a time, beguiled by the beauty of the be William, or Willie Fiddler! Then it occurred scene and hour, bave they lingered to enjoy it to us that the difficulty might be got over by until warned by the chill winds of night of their supposing this to be a mere soubriquet, derived own imprudence, and the risk they ran. from the young man's probable passion for About a twelvemonth previous to the period music; the violin perhaps, vulgarly called fiddle; of which we write, the long friendship subsisting a supposition far easier to advance than contro- between these two young men appeared for the vert, as all this happened more than a hundred first time to be seriously threatened, and never years ago. But our natural love of truth, together afterwards entirely resumed its former exclusive with the fact of the name of Fiddler being still devotion. A third had been admitted anong common in the neighbourhood, finally triumphed, them—Cathleen Ross, beautiul as a dream, and and our readers shall have the legend just as we wild and mirthful as a fairy, came with an aged found it.
relative to reside in the neighbourhood, and was Once upon a time, in the eastern part of the soon surrounded by a host of rustic lovers and parish of Cromarty, lived two dear friends, I admirers, and among the rest Willie Fiddler Willie Fiddler and Dugald Scott. They had been and his friend Dugald, who were from the first companions from their earliest childhood, and peculiarly distinguished by the smiles of the had grown up together in that perfect sympathy young girl. But Cathleen was too truthful and of thought and pursuit which renders such simple-minded to keep them very long in susattachments as delightful as they are rare ; pense, and her evident preference for the former, neither could boast of very robust health, a evinced rather by happy smiles and blushes than circumstance which, while it hindered their join- eloquent words, soon terminated the affair. ing in the more active sports of their youthful Dugald candidly confessed that he verily beassociates, threw them still oftener into each lieved that this had been only a brother's love other's society. At such times they used to from the beginning, and asked permission still wander away among the lofty cliffs, and liked to retain that feeling for the betrothed of his nothing better than to watch the blue waters of fri which the girl gratefully and cheerfully the Frith gliding and sparkling along in the granted; for she liked Dugald, as we cannot distance like some fairy thing,
help liking all those who are near and dear to We verily believe, with Wordsworth, that the beloved of our own hearts. To love what there is a hidden, but refining influence to be they love seems only right and natural, and is a found in the contemplation of nature. “ A feeling that comes of itself, and extends even to beauty, born of murmuring sound,” that even the meanest flower that blows. where it does not "pass into the face,” seldom After a little time everything seemed to go on fails to touch the heart with something of its just as usual, only that Cathleen made one in all own tranquil loveliness; and it is in this manner their walks and plans, and that poor Dugald octhat we would in a measure account for the casionally found himself in the very unpleasant evident and acknowledged superiority of the predicament of playing third; and was wont, two friends over the majority of their acquain- now and then, to feign a weariness and indispotance. Those lonely walks together, with the sition which he did not feel, in order to remain thoughts to which they so naturally gave birth ; behind. But this did not very often occur, for