96 Yes! I was with thee when the dance through mazy rings was led, And when the lyre and voice were tuned, and when the feast was spread ; But not where noble blood flowed forth, where sounding javelins flew --Why did I hear love's first sweet words, and not its last adieu ? What now can breathe of gladness more, what scene, what hour, what tone? The blue skies fade with all their lights,—they fade, since thou art gone! Even that must leave me, that still face, by all my tears unmoved -Take me from this dark world with thee, Ianthis! my beloved!' A wail was heard around the bed, the death-bed of the young, Amidst her tears the funeral chant a mournful sister sung. Ianthis, brother of my soul!-Oh! where are now the days That laughed among the deep-green hills, on all our infant plays? When we two sported by the streams, or tracked them to their source, And like a stag's, the rocks along, was thy first fearless course! -I see the pines there waving yet, I see the rills descend, I see thy bounding step no more, my brother and my friend! 'I come with flowers-for spring is come !-Ianthis! art thou here? I bring the garlands she hath brought, I cast them on thy bier ! Thou shouldst be crowned with victory's crown-but oh! more meet they seem, The first faint violets of the wood, and lilies of the stream. ་་་་་་ mo More meet for one so fondly loved, and laid thus early low 1 -Alas! how sadly sleeps thy face amidst the sunshine's glow: The golden glow that through thy heart was wont such joy to send, -Woe, that it smiles, and not for thee !-my brother and my friend!' Mrs Hemans. THE CRUSADER. He is come from the land of the sword and the shrine, The snow plumes wave o'er his victor crest— The courser is black as black can be, Save the brow-star, white as the foam of the sea; It bore for device, a cross and a dove, And the words, ' I am vowed to my God, and my love!' He comes not back the same that he went, For his sword has been tried, and his strength has been spent ; His golden hair has a deeper brown, And his brow has caught a darker frown ; And his lip hath lost its boyish red, And the shade of the south o'er his cheek is spread; But stately his steps, and his bearing high, And wild the light of his fiery eye ; And proud in the lists were the maiden bright, Who might claim the knight of the cross for her knight; But he rides for the home he has pined to see He reached the castle-the gate was thrown He stood on the roof of the ancient tower, Till his eyes grew dim with those sweet warm tears, He stood alone the last of his race, With the cold, wide world for his dwelling-place; But to weep o'er very desolateness; 400695 They pointed him to a barren plain Where his father, his brothers, his kinsmen were slain. But they could not show him one living thing, Is one, the first in the battle line; For a blasted tree is on his shield; 6 And, the motto he bears is, I fight for a grave!' Miss L. E. Landon. SOLITUDE. A FRAGMENT. I love thee, Solitude! thou art possessed * Told to the night when thou alone wert near. Through rock and sedge poured forth its voiced gush,. |