THE BRIDAL OF MALAHIDE.

THE joy-bells are ringing in gay Malahide,

The fresh wind is singing along the sea-side;

The maids are assembling with garlands of flowers,

And the harpstrings are trembling in all the glad bowers.

Swell, swell the gay measure! roll trumpet and drum!
'Mid greetings of pleasure in splendour they come !
The chancel is ready, the portal stands wide
For the lord and the lady, the bridegroom and bride.

Before the high altar young Maud stands array'd;
With accents that falter her promise is made—
From father and mother for ever to part,
For him and no other to treasure her heart.

The words are repeated, the bridal is done,
The rite is completed-the two, they are one;
The vow,
it is spoken all pure from the heart,
That must not be broken till life shall depart.

Hark! 'mid the gay clangour that compass'd their car,
Loud accents in anger come mingling afar!
The foe's on the border, his weapons resound
Where the lines in disorder unguarded are found.

As wakes the good shepherd, the watchful and bold,
When the ounce or the leopard is seen in the fold,
So rises already the chief in his mail,

While the new-married lady looks fainting and pale.

"Son, husband, and brother, arise to the strife,
For the sister and mother, for children and wife!
O'er hill and o'er hollow, o'er mountain and plain,
Up, true men, and follow! let dastards remain !"

Hurrah! to the battle! they form into line

The shields, how they rattle! the spears, how they shine!

Soon, soon shall the foeman his treachery rue-
On, burgher and yeoman, to die or to do !

The eve is declining in lone Malahide,

The maidens are twining gay wreaths for the bride; She marks them unheeding-her heart is afar, Where the clansmen are bleeding for her in the war.

Hark! loud from the mountain-'tis Victory's cry!
O'er woodland and fountain it rings to the sky!
The foe has retreated! he flies to the shore;
The spoiler's defeated-the combat is o'er !

With foreheads unruffled the conquerors come-
But why have they muffled the lance and the drum?
What form do they carry aloft on his shield?
And where does he tarry, the lord of the field?

Ye saw him at morning how gallant and gay!
In bridal adorning the star of the day:
Now weep for the lover,-his triumph is sped,
His hope it is over! the chieftain is dead!

But O for the maiden who mourns for that chief,
With heart overladen and rending with grief!
She sinks on the meadow,-in one morning-tide
A wife and a widow, a maid and a bride!

Ye maidens attending, forbear to condole!
Your comfort is rending the depths of her soul.
True-tre, 'twas a story for ages of pride,
He died in his glory-but, oh, he has died!

The dead-bells are tolling in sad Malahide,
The dead-wail is rolling along the sea-side;
The crowds, heavy-hearted, withdraw from the green,
For the sun has departed that brighten'd the scene!

WE

OPTICAL ILLUSIONS.

E commonly say "seeing is believing,", as if the eyes were infallible,1 but this is a vulgar error. No organ of sense, indeed, is so liable to deception as the eye. Anything which can in any way alter the direction of the ray of light in its passage from the object to the eye is sure to produce a false impression upon that organ.

The eye always judges of the distance and position of objects as if the rays came in straight lines. Whenever the rays are bent out of their straight course, or refracted, the eye is deceived. We have a familiar instance of this in the broken appearance presented by the blade of an oar dipped into water. The rays of light proceeding from that part of the oar under water are bent or refracted on emerging from the water into the atmosphere, and consequently the object itself seems broken at the surface of the water. This phenomenon, called refraction, always occurs when the light passes through media2 of different densities, like air and water, or through one medium, like the atmosphere, when the parts through which it passes differ in density.

When refraction takes place, that is, when the rays of light are bent in their passage to the eye, it is possible to see a thing that is out of the direct line of vision, or, as it were, round a corner. By way of experiment, place a shilling in an empty bowl, and walk backwards until the coin disappears. Then keep your position, and ask a friend to pour water into the bowl, and long before he has filled it, the coin will again become visible to you. How is this? You have not moved, and the coin has not been moved; but the rays of light from the shilling in passing from the water

into the air have become bent, so as again to reach your eye. The shilling, on again coming into view, does not seem to be in the same place as formerly, for the eye naturally judges of its position as if the light came in straight rays, and so the shilling seems higher than it really is.

By the working of the same law we see the sun before it has actually risen above the horizon, and keep it in view for a little while after it has actually set. A little consideration will make this plain. The rays of light in travelling from the sun to the eye must pass through the whole atmosphere from top to bottom; and as the layers of air through which the rays pass differ very much in density, the rays are curved instead of straight, and so reach the eye when the sun is a little below the horizon, just as the refracted rays of light from the shilling, when covered with water, enable it to be seen when below the direct line of vision.

In certain states of the atmosphere, when the strata1 of air near the surface differ greatly in density, some striking optical, or spectral illusions, are produced. These effects are chiefly due to refraction, or the bending of the rays of light from a straight course in their passage through the atmosphere, by which distant objects out of the range of direct vision come into view.

A very remarkable instance of spectral illusion was witnessed, some years ago, by hundreds of spectators upon the beach at Hastings. The whole coast of France, from Calais to Dieppe, though more than fifty miles distant, seemed to be lifted up into mid-air, and there remained in sight for the space of three hours.

In many instances of this kind the image is inverted, and on rare occasions it has been seen both ways at once. When this is the case, the atmosphere must be