Thou hast no tale to tell of man

God is thy theme. Ye Sounding Caves -
Whisper of Him, whose mighty plan
Deems as a bubble all your waves!

LINES.

YES! there are pleasures, that so closely tread
On suffering's dark and melancholy train,
That scarce the throbbing heart, the aching head,
Seem conscious of the change to joy, from pain —
Not yet aroused from fear's benumbing reign;
Thus, when the yawning grave to health returns
Friends, for whom prayer had seemed to rise in vain,
The joy, so long delayed, half welcome dawns,
And the vexed spirit, though it kindles, mourns.
So when the bow of beauty in the skies,
Serenely arches in its native heaven,

And in its robe of many-colored dies,

Renews the promise to the Patriarchs given,

Though stormy winds and waves are backward driven,

Still trembles Nature with her recent fears;

The agony with which her frame has striven,
In contest strange, upon her face appears,

And, though she sweetly smiles, her smiles are

stained with tears.

L. M... T.

AMERICAN SCENERY.

THE picture by Mr COLE, of which we have given a copy under the above title, is in the possession of DANIEL WADSWORTH, Esq., Hartford, by whose favour we have been allowed to give it a place in the Token. It is not a view of a particular spot, but a combination of sketches from nature, taken in various parts of the country. The design of the artist appears to have been, to present in one view, the characteristic features of our mountain landscape; and, as not inappropriate to such a design, he has introduced in the distance a scene from Mr Cooper's tale of the Last of the Mohicans. The particular point of the story referred to, is indicated by the following extracts. The lines annexed, which might be entitled Cora's Appeal, were furnished us by a friend.

'When the sun was seen climbing above the tops of the mountain against whose bosom the Delawares had constructed their encampment, most were seated; and as his bright rays darted from behind the outline of trees that fringed the eminence, they fell upon as grave, as attentive and as deeply interested a multitude, as was probably ever before lightened by his morning beams. Its number somewhat exceeded a thousand souls.'

Magua cast a look of triumph around the whole assembly, before he proceeded to the execution of his purpose. Perceiving that the men were unable to offer any resistance, he turned his

looks on her he valued most. Cora met his gaze, with an eye so calm and firm, that his resolution wavered. Then recollecting his former artifice, he raised Alice from the arms of the warrior, against whom she leaned, and beckoning Heyward to follow, he motioned for the encircling crowd to open. But Cora, instead of obeying the impulse he had expected, rushed to the feet of the patriarch; and raising her voice, exclaimed aloud;'—

HEAR! old of days, hear, father! hear

Whose ancient form, and temples, crowned
With snows of by-gone time, appear

Coeval with the hills around!
To you these Indian maidens kneel-
For mercy, justice, plead to you.
O let thine aged bosom feel

Ruth for the white man's daughter too.
To that high peak, whose cloud-clad brow
Approaches near the Eternal's throne,
Bid these young warriors bear me now,
Thence bid them dash me headlong down;

Or let me die in smoke and fire,

Or in yon torrent find relief,
Or perish here, by tortures dire,
Ere give me to that savage chief—
Yield me not up his victim here.

O rather rend me limb from limb-
As well the panther with the deer
May dwell in peace, as I with him!