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Alone!-it is in that deep word
That all thy sorrow lies;
By smiles from kindred eyes!
To aught like thee, Be strong ?
And brave the tempest's wrong!
Thou shaken with the wind,
There is but One to biud.
LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP.
BY WM. LEGGETT.
The birds when winter shades the sky,
Fiy o'er the seas away,
And summer breezes play.
While fortune's sun is warm,
And fly before a storm.
Each other warbler 's pas3'd,
And chirps' amid the blast.
With fortune's sun depart,
And nestles on the heart.
THE PROGRESS OF LIFE. I DREAM'D I heard an infant's feeble cry,–
Look'd round, and saw a rosy boy at play; And as I gazed, he changed to man ; his eye
Sparkled with health ; his form was comely, gay: He changed again ; his dark brown hair turn'd grey;
His eyes were dim, his health, bis bloom decay'd.
His hoary head beneath the sod was laid,
(With an Engraving.) The castle of Dunluce is one of the most extensive and beautiful remnants of feudal architecture at present remaining in Ireland. Though it has long ceased to be the residence of man, and its walls are crumbling to decay, the boldness of its situation, the extreme regularity of its structure, and the events connected with its history, render it an object of peculiar attraction, as well to the antiquary as the traveller. The remains of several castles, which have evidently been places of great strength and security, are scattered over the cliffs in the vicinity of the Causeway, and give a melancholy beauty to the grand and everchanging scenery of these romantic shores. But the subject of this sketch is decidedly the most interesting and deserving of notice.
Dunluce castle is situated about two miles from Bushmills, a neat little village in the county of Antrim, on the estate of Sir F. W. M‘Naghten, and about the same distance from the grand national curiosity, the Giants' Causeway, many parts of which can be seen from its turrets. It is built on an isolated cliff, which rises abruptly from the ocean to the height of two hundred and fifty feet; but is not more than twenty distant from the adjoining land. A
narrow parapet, in the form of a bridge, is constructed over the intermediate chasm, which is the only communication between the castle and the outer buildings, and which, before the invention of artillery, must have rendered its possessors secure from the dread of invasion. This space divides the castle into two parts. That on the main land is neither so extensive, nor so well fortified, and is supposed to have been the place allotted for the residence of the Gallowglasses, who attended the person of the lord of the castle. The buildings on the rock are fantastically adapted to the peculiarities of its shape, and extend entirely over its surface. In many places the earth and rocks have deserted the foundations, which hang uninjured over the precipices, as in defiance of desolation. The walls, both in this and the outer buildings, are composed entirely of basaltic marble, and cemented with a sort of bitumen, remarkable for its strength and durability. The cornices and arches of the doors and windows are adorned with beautiful specimens of columnar basaltes, taken from the Giants' Causeway, which are so arranged as to display their polygon sections, and discover no signs of decay. There is not a vestige of a roof remaining on any of the towers or apartments; but the greater part of the walls are still undilapidated, though vast masses of them have fallen in several directions, and block up the passages. The remains of a spacious chapel occupy the centre of the building, the walls of which are considerably higher than the rest; and immediately adjoining it is the Baushee's room, from whence, according to the traditions of the country, unearthly cries are frequently heard, and huge fires seen, especially before any great calamity. It is said that this room is the frequent visiting-place of the Baushee, who forboded, in nocturnal wailings, the ruin of the Macquillans, and the destruction of Dunluce.
A little below the wall formerly mentioned, which connects the buildings with the main land, is a prodigious
It is about two hundred feet in length, and in some places nearly one hundred high. The noise caused