Its icy head, like its own cousin, snake,
To hiss and wound :-beneath thy giant tread,
It writhes and bleeds; and, on thy circling snow,
Its thread of blood, in pallid stains, distils!

Sometimes the snail,-if snail, like Mungo Park,
Or noted Bruce, on bold exploring bent,
Leaves the sweet bosom of some yielding fruit,
And, full of enterprize and love of fame,

Dares cross the awful gravel, which divides

Grass plot from shrubbery, and, with quickened pace, Presumes to tread where snail ne'er trod before,Thou checkest in its progress; and the mail

In which it sallied forth-like knight of old,

To tilt at tournament-avails it nought;

But, with its horns outstretched, and shivered coat, The victim "on sweet nectarine thinks,—and dies!"*

And when, intent to make the smooth more smooth,
Thou roll'st thy massy body o'er the grass,
In vain the daisy lifts its modest eye,
To bid thee spare its beauties :-thou, alas !
Continuest, still, thy progress,-till thy track
Is marked by daisy deaths!

Yet, Garden Roll!

The good thou dost outweighs the evil, still,——
If thou art judged as man should always judge

"Et dulces moriens reminiscitur Argos."-VIRGIL.

His fellow man, and would himself be judged,
-A frailty pardoned for a virtue's sake!-

And thence, to thee this strain of praise I breathe,
These beauteous scenes among;—where handmaid Art,
With graceful skill, has dressed fair Nature's form,
Hanging, in easy folds, her verdant robe,

To veil-but not obscure-her beauties!-Garden Roll, Farewell!

MARIAN SEAFORTH.

A TALE OF AMERICA.

"Thy destined Lord is come too late."

Bride of Abydos.

It was a beautiful autumn evening, in Pine Hollow. The sun had almost set; and deep rays, bursting through the clouds, glowed upon their leaden masses, in a dusky purple tinge. But it was on the horizon only that the shadow of a cloud could be seen, for all above was clear uninterrupted space. The blue vault, immediately overhead, declined, at the sides of the vast arch, into all those delicate untraceable tints, the exquisite blending of which lends so soft a charm to evening skies. The face of the earth partook of the influence of the hour. The wind had sunk so low that no leaf trembled in its embraces. Nothing fell upon the ear, to interrupt that murmuring which perplexes us to know whether it is

the creature of reality or of imagination,-save the faint and monotonous rippling of the stream, or the chirping of the owls, as they flitted around.

Pine Hollow was, at the period of my tale, one of those small, sweet vallies which, in an irregular country, like America,-unlevelled, or levelled only in a very partial degree, by the almost omnipotent power of civilization, so often arrest the wanderings of the trans-Atlantic traveller. Lofty pines which, with their far-spreading summits, seemed monuments of living antiquity, clothed its sides; and cast a dark shade over the bubbling stream that glistened beneath, wherever a gleam of light broke through the overhanging foliage. Lichens, nameless herbs, and wild-flowers perfumed the banks of the diminutive stream. These, becoming detached by the unceas ing flow of the waters, and congregating with loose pebbles and other accidental obstacles, formed, at irregular distances, dams, over which the flood fell in noisy cataracts. The gloom which canopied the whole was such as inspired a pleasing awe,-wholly distinct from that terror with which the more secret recesses of nature are, sometimes, apt to invest the beholder; and, to one fond of indulging in fanciful reveries, at the expense of judgment, might have seemed one of the sylvan retreats of classic mythology, or the scene of the wilder and more romantic superstitions with which the traditions of the darker ages has delighted to people the more secret localities of nature. But the discoverer of the western hemisphere is not

supposed to have been anticipated, in his researches, by the deities of ancient Greece; and no spectre of modern date was known to have chosen, for the stage of its exhibitions, the spot of which I speak. It is, therefore, to be feared that Pine Hollow was,—and may yet remain,-undignified by any more astounding apparitions than the squirrels that sprung from branch to branch of the clustered walnut-trees, at the southern extremity of the Hollow; or the lizards, butterflies, and other reptiles and insects, which claimed an immemorial right of enjoyment in the produce of the uncultivated district (by far the most extensive) of the valley.

It may be inferred, from what has been just said, that cultivation was not entirely excluded. On one bank of the valley,-where the descent, becoming less precipitous, formed a gentle slope,-the neatness and conveniency of art had supplanted the wild luxuriance of nature. The turf had, in many places, been removed, to make way for small gravel walks, bordered either with shells or neatly clipped rows of box. A small grove of firs half concealed from view a dwelling, originally built of wood and plaister; but the additions and alterations which had been made to it, and of which the number was by no means small, were of brick and other modern materials. The windows were small, and the glazing in the minute diamond style, except where the operator had chosen to exhibit his taste and skill, in stars, circles, and other such fantasies. The little light which