The sole survivor of a company

Who wandered through our mountains.

A long time

His life was doubtful, Signor, and he called

For help, whence help alone could come, which I,
Morning and night, invoked along with him.

So first our souls did mingle!

Lor. I perceive :-you mingled souls until you mingled

hearts?

You loved at last. Was't not the sequel, maid?

Mar. I loved, indeed! If I but nursed a flower
Which to the ground the rain and wind had beaten,
That flower of all our garden was my pride;
What then was he to me, for whom I thought
To make a shroud, when, tending on him still
With hope, that baffled still, did still keep up,
I saw at last the ruddy dawn of health-
Begin to mantle o'er his pallid form,
And glow-and glow-till forth at last it burst
Into confirmed, broad, and glorious day!

Lor. You loved, and did he love?
Mar. To say he did,

Were to affirm what oft his eyes avouched,
What many an action testified—and yet—
What wanted confirmation of his tongue.
But if he loved-it brought him not content!
'Twas now abstraction-now a start-anon
A pacing to and fro-anon, a stillness,
As naught remained of life, save life itself,
And feeling, thought, and motion, were extinct!
Then all again was action! Disinclined
To converse, save he held it with himself;
Which oft he did, in moody vein discoursing,

And ever and anon invoking Honour,

As some high contest there were pending, 'twixt
Himself and him, wherein her aid he needed.

Lor. This spoke impediment: or he was bound By promise to another; or had friends

Whom it behooved him to consult, and doubted;
Or 'twixt you lay disparity too wide

For Love itself to leap.

Mar. I saw a struggle,

I wondered still,

But knew not what it was.
That what to me was all content, to him
Was all disturbance; but my turn did come.
At length he talked of leaving us; at length
He fixed the parting day-but kept it not.
O how my heart did bound!

Then first I knew

It had been sinking. Deeper still it sank

When next he fixed to go: and sank it then
To bound no more! He went.

Lor. To follow him,

You came to Mantua?

Mar. What could I do?

Cot, garden, vineyard, rivulet, and wood,
Lake, sky, and mountain, went along with him-
Could I remain behind? My father found
My heart was not at home; he loved his child,
And asked me, one day, whither we should go?
I said,
66 to Mantua." I followed him
To Mantua! to breathe the air he breathed,
To walk upon the ground he walked upon,
To look upon the things he looked upon,
To look, perchance, on him! perchance to hear him,
To touch him! never to be known to him,

Till he was told, I lived and died his love. . . .

Some effort has it cost to tell your story,
But profit comes of it ;-your cause is strong.
Your vows, which virtually are another's,
Heaven doth itself forbid you give the Count!
Is't not so, nephew?

Lor. There I'll found the plea,

Which to the conscience of the Duke I'll put.
Knows he—whom, at his death (which I'm advised
Took place in Mantua) your father named
Your guardian-knows the Commissary this,
Which thou hast now related?

Mar. Not that I know of.

My father's death was sudden. Long time since He and the Commissary were acquaintance; What passed between them, save the testament Which left me ward unto the commissary,

I am a stranger to.

Lor. Since you came hither

Have you seen him, for sake of whom you came? Mar. No!

Lor. Nor hast clue direct, or indirect,

To find him out?

Mar. No, Signor.

Lor. And how long

Have you sojourned in Mantua?

Mar. Two years.

Lor. And is your love the same?

Mar. Am I the same?

Lor. Such constancy should win a blessing.

Ant. Yes!

And strange as 'tis, what seems to us affliction
Is oft a hand that helps us to our wish.

So

may

it fall with thee—if Heaven approves!

Switzerland.

The land of beauty, and of grandeur, lady,
Where looks the cottage out on a domain
The palace cannot boast of. Seas of lakes,
And hills of forests! crystal waves that rise
Midst mountains all of snow, and mock the sun,
Returning him his flaming beams more thick
And radiant than he sent them.-Torrents there
Are bounding floods! and there the tempest roams
At large, in all the terrors of its glory!

And then our valleys! ah, they are the homes
For hearts! our cottages, our vineyards, orchards,—
Our pastures studded with the herd and fold!
Our native strains that melt us as we sing them!
A free-a gentle-simple-honest people!

Love's not a flower that grows on the dull earth; Springs by the calendar; must wait for sun— For rain; matures by parts,- -must take its time To stem, to leaf, to bud, to blow. It owns A richer soil, and boasts a quicker seed: You look for it, and see it not; and lo!

E'en while you look, the peerless flower is up,
Consummate in the birth.

Passionate Love, contrasted with Discreet Love.

Julia. What would you weigh 'gainst love That's true? Tell me with what you'd turn the scale? Yea, make the index waver? Wealth? A feather! Rank? Tinsel against bullion in the balance! The love of kindred? That to set 'gainst love! Friendship comes nearest to't; but put it in,

And friendship kicks the beam!—weigh nothing 'gainst it;
Weigh love against the world!

Yet are they happy that have naught to say to it.
Walter. And such a one art thou. Who wisely wed,
Wed happily. The love thou speak'st of,

A flower is only, that its season has,

Which they must look to see the withering of,
Who pleasure in its budding and its bloom;
But wisdom is the constant evergreen

Which lives the whole year through. Be that

Sacredness of Promises.

A promise made, admits not of release,
Save by consent or forfeiture of those
Who hold it—so it should be pondered well
Before we let it go. Ere man should say
I broke the word I had the power to keep,
I'd lose the life I had the power to part with!

your

flower!