THE MANLY HEART.

SHALL I, wasting in despair,
Die because a woman's fair?
Or my cheeks make pale with care
'Cause another's rosy are?
Be she fairer than the day,
Or the flowery meads in May-
If she be not so to me,

What care I how fair she be?

Shall my foolish heart be pined
'Cause I see a woman kind;
Or a well disposed nature
Joined with a lovely feature?
Be she meeker, kinder, than
Turtle-dove or pelican,

If she be not so to me,
What care I how kind she be?

Shall a woman's virtues move
Me to perish for her love?
Or her merit's value known
Make me quite forget mine own?
Be she with that goodness blest
Which may gain her name of Best;
If she seem not such to me,
What care I how good she be?

'Cause her fortune seems too high,
Shall I play the fool and die?
Those that bear a noble mind
Where they want of riches find,
Think what with them they would
do

Who without them dare to woo;
And unless that mind I see,

What care I though great she be?

THE clouds are flying, the woods are sighing,

A maiden is walking the grassy shore,

And as the wave breaks with might, with might,

She singeth aloud in the darksome night,

But a tear is in her troubled eye.

For the world feels cold, and the heart gets old,

And reflects the bright aspect of Nature no more; Then take back thy child, holy Virgin, to thee!

I have plucked the one blossom that hangs on earth's tree, I have lived, and have loved, and die.

ANONYMOUS.

Translated from Schiller.

THE BRIDAL OF ANDALLA. "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 up, 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 forth bridegroom so brave as he, so brave and lovely never. Yon tall plume waving o'er his brow, of purple mixed with white, I guess 'twas wreathed by Zara, whom he will wed to-night. Rise up, rise up, Xarifa! lay the golden cushion down; Rise up, come to the window, and gaze with all the town!"

The Zegri lady rose not, nor laid her cushion down,

Nor came she to the window to gaze with all the town;

But though her eyes dwelt on her knee, in vain her fingers strove, And though her needle pressed the silk, no flower Xarifa wove; One bonny rose-bud she had traced before the noise drew nigh That bonny bud a tear effaced, slow drooping from her eye"No, no!" she sighs-"bid me not rise, nor lay my cushion down, To gaze upon Andalla with all the gazing town!”

And the young moon dropped from heaven,

And the lights hid one by one.

All silently their glances
Slipped down the cruel sea,
And "Wait," cried the night, and
wind, and storm,

"Wait till I come to thee!"

HARRIET PRESCOTT Spoffort.

HERO TO LEANDER.

OH! go not yet my love,
The night is dark and vast;
The white moon is hid in her heaven
above,

And the waves climb high and fast.
Oh! kiss me, kiss me, once again,
Lest thy kiss should be the last.
Oh kiss me ere we part:
Grow closer to my heart,

My heart is warmer surely than the bosom of the main.

Thy heart beats through thy rosy limbs,

So gladly doth it stir;

Thine eye in drops of gladness swims, I have bathed thee with the pleasant myrrh;

Thy locks are dripping balm;
Thou shalt not wander hence to-
night,

I'll stay thee with my kisses.
To-night the roaring brine
Will rend thy golden tresses;
The ocean with the morrow light
Will be both blue and calm;

And the billow will embrace thee with a kiss as soft as mine.

No western odors wander

On the black and moaning sea,

And when thou art dead, Leander,
My soul must follow thee!

Oh! go not yet, my love.
Thy voice is sweet and low;

The deep salt wave breaks in above
Those marble steps below.
The turret stairs are wet
That lead into the sea.
The pleasant stars have set:
Oh! go not, go not yet,
Or I will follow thee.

TENNYSON.

BRIGNALL BANKS.

O, BRIGNALL banks are wild and fair,

And Greta woods are green,
And you may gather garlands there,
Would grace a summer queen.
And as I rode by Dalton Hall,
Beneath the turrets high,

A maiden on the castle wall
Was singing merrily, -

"O, Brignall banks are fresh and fair,

And Greta woods are green; I'd rather rove with Edmund there, Than reign our English queen."

"If, Maiden, thou wouldst wend with me,

To leave both tower and town, Thou first must guess what life lead

we,

That dwell by dale and down. And if thou canst that riddle read, As read full well you may, Then to the greenwood shalt thou

speed,

As blithe as Queen of May.' Yet sung she, "Brignall banks are fair,

And Greta woods are green; I'd rather rove with Edmund there, Than reign our English queen.

I read you, by your bugle-horn,
And by your palfrey good,
I read you for a Ranger sworn,

To keep the king's greenwood." "A Ranger, lady, winds his horn, And 'tis at peep of light; His blast is heard at merry morn, And mine at dead of night.". Yet sung she, "Brignall banks are fair,

And Greta woods are gay; I would I were with Edmund there, To reign his Queen of May!

With burnished brand and muske

toon.

So gallantly you come,

I read you for a bold Dragoon,
That lists the tuck of drum."
'I list no more the tuck of drum,
No more the trumpet hear;
But when the beetle sounds his hum,
My comrades take the spear.

449

There was spite in each look, there was fear in each ee,

As they watched for the bonnets of Bonny Dundee.

These cowls of Kilmarnock had spits and had spears,

And lang-hafted gullies to kill Cavaliers;

But they shrunk to close-heads, and the causeway was free,

At the toss of the bonnet of Bonny Dundee.

"Away to the hills, to the caves, to the rocks,

Ere I own an usurper, I'll couch with the fox;

And tremble false Whigs, in the midst of your glee,

You have not seen the last of my bonnet and me."