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We paused amid the pines that stood
The giants of the waste, Tortured by storms to shapes as rude
As serpents interlaced. And soothed by every azure breath,
That under heaven is blown,
As tender as its own;
Like green waves on the sea,
The ocean woods may be.
How calm it was! the silence there
By such a calm was bound, That even the busy woodpecker
Made stiller by her sound The inviolable? quietness;
The breath of peace we drew. With its soft motion made not less
The calm that round us grew. There seemed from the remotest seat
Of the wide mountain waste,
A magic circle traced,
A thrilling, silent life,
Our mortal nature's strife;
2 inviolable, that may not be pro
faned, or broken.
3 interfused, poared between
And still I felt the centre of
The magic circle there
The lifeless atmosphere.
We paused beneath the pools that lie
Under the forest bough,
Gulfed in a world below;
Which in the dark earth lay,
And purer than the day-
As in the upper air,
Than any spreading there.
And, through the dark greenwood,
Out of a speckled cloud.
Can never well be seen,
Of that fair forest green,
With an Elysian glow,
4 atmosphere, the air that sur
rounds the earth. 5 firmament, the arch of the skies ;
anciently thought to be a firm vault.
6 Pertaining to Elysium, tho fabled
abcde, in antiquity, of the blessed, after death.
An atmosphere without a breath,
A softer day below.
To the dark water's breast,
leaf and lineament?
Like an unwelcome thought,
Blots one dear image out.
The forests ever green,
Than calm in waters seen.
34 MRS. HEMANS.-Born, 1794; Died, 1835. Felicia Dorothea Hemans was born at Liverpool, and married a Captain Hemans, who, however, left her after she had had five sons. She was a woman of true genius_sweet, natural, and pleasant. Her poems fill a number of volumes, but among them her lyrics rank highest.
THE TREASURES OF THE DEEP. What hidest thou in thy treasure-caves and cells, Thou hollow-sounding and mysterious main ?Pale glistening pearls, and rainbow-coloured shells, Bright things which gleam unrecked of, and in vain.Keep, keep thy riches, melancholy sea!
We ask not such from thee.
unrecked of, upregarded.
lineament, feature-distinguishing form,
Yet more, the depths have more! What wealth untold,
Earth claims not these again!
Yet more, the depths have more! Thy waves have rolled
Man yields them to decay !
Yet more, the billows and the depths have more!
Give back the true and brave!
Give back the lost and lovely! those for whom
But all is not thine own!
To thee the love of woman hath gone down,
2 argosies, richly-laden merchant
3 revelry, festivity.
O’er youth's bright locks and beauty's flowery crown;
Restore the dead, thou sea!
J. G. LOCKHART.-Born, 1794; Died, 1854. John Gibson Lockhart, author of the “Life of Sir Walter Scott," and other valuable contributions to literature, was born in Scotland in 1794, and married the eldest daughter of Sir Walter Scott in 1820. In 1826 he became editor of the “ Quarterly Review," and continued to be so till 1853, the year before he died. In early life he wrote several tales and biographies, and published his translations of the Spanish Ballads, from which the following is taken. In the original it is one of the most admired of the ballads of Spain, and it has been often imitated by modern poets.
THE BRIDAL OF ANDALLA.
A Moorish Ballad.
“Rise up, rise up, Xarifa; lay the golden cushion down; Rise up; come to the window, and gaze with all the Town. From gay guitar and violin the silver notes are flowing, And the lovely lute doth speak between the trumpet's lordly
blowing, And banners bright from lattice light are waving everywhere, And the tall, tall plume of our cousin's bridegroom floats
proudly in the air. Rise rise
up, Xarifa; lay the golden cushion down; Rise up; come to the window, and gaze with all the Town. · Arise, arise, Xarifa; I see Andalla's face; He bends him to the people with a calm and princely grace: Through all the land of Xeres, and banks of Guadalquiver, Rode out bridegroom so brave as he, so brave and lovely,