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Weary at last, she stopped beside a stream,
That lay before her calm as childhood's dream;
Upon its flowery brink a moment stood,
And on the water gazed in thoughtful mood,
Placed one foot o'er the edge-then on the sod
Shrank back, and called for mercy on her God.-
And there, beneath the autumn sky, she sate,
Alone, and homeless, friendless, desolate,
Among the leaves-alas! how like to them,
Withered and severed from the parent stem,
In silence from the earth to pass away,

Midst wintry storms, and blasts, and slow decay.
Repentance shook her bosom's inmost core,
Remorse with ruthless pangs her heartstrings tore,
And on the turf she sank in wild despair,
Around her streaming her long sable hair,

Like a rich veil. Her sad thoughts wandered back
To innocence and childhood's faded track,
Parental love, and home ;-and there beamed yet
One glimmering star of hope that had not set.

She would return !—perhaps there still might be
Forgiveness for the erring EMILIE !—

Her wrongs, her sufferings yet perchance might melt

Her father's heart,-wake kindness he had felt

Ere from the path of duty she had strayed,
And into secret wedlock been betrayed.

It was the full moon's time and soft starlight,
When her loved home once more broke on her sight-
There were the castle, the gay walks, and bowers
Where she had dwelt in innocence' sweet hours,
And by her father's or her lover's side,

Had moved in youthful bloom and beauty's pride.
Her utter wretchedness they seemed to mock ;-
How could she live-how bear the pending shock !—--
She clung unto a myrtle tree for aid,

On her wild-beating heart her small hand laid,

And gasped for breath.-There gleamed but one faint light Through that old castle's gorgeous curtains bright.

She raised her eyes, and prayed for strength to bear

Her shame, and bring her trembling footsteps near ;— She reached the door-there sat her hoary sire,

And her fair sister singing to the lyre

Whose chords beneath her touch so oft had thrilled,-

With softest melody that hall had filled.

The song was one that she had often sung

For him in happier days-the sad words rung
Through her torn bleeding heart like a wild knell.
His tears streamed fast-for her she knew they fell,

And leaned against a post for strength to greet
Her sire-then forward sprung, and at his feet
Shrieked out "Forgive!"

He raised her in his arms,

Gazed on her face bereft of former charms,

And recognized his child! Back drooped her head

He kissed the parted lips-but she was dead.

LAONE.

THE STUDENT'S STORY.

I.

WHERE a green valley winds its blooming way,
Dividing the umbrageous, sloping woods,
Hemmed in by mountains shadowy and tall,
And hills, where graze the lowing herds all day,
Or pant beneath the breezy spreading boughs,
Lonely and dim the village churchyard lies.

The tuneful birds of day and closing eve

Have sought their balmy rest-the flocks are penned The stars look from their silvery thrones on high, The full moon smiles upon the lonely graves,

Placid as youthful mother watching o'er

The silent couches of her slumbering babes.

O'er some the mournful willow folds its

arms,

And roses drench their cheeks with dewy tears;
While others, thick o'ergrown by tangled weeds,

Tombless, unepitaphed, neglected lie.

Along the outer walks dark poplars stand-
Sad sentinels around the crowded yard ;

And where their shadows fall along the ground

And thrifty grass, rises the little church.

II.

Within this spot are gathered to their homes
The rich man, and the beggar, and the sage,
And the poor idiot who never sipped

At learning's fount. Here babes and tender mothers,
Husbands and wives, tried friends, and youthful lovers,
Lie side by side together, yet apart

How far! No greetings kind they interchange,

No social converse with each other hold;

No fierce disputes, nor tears, nor sighs, nor moans,
Nor quickening pulses, through these chambers rise
To break the solemn stillness of the tomb;

But each in his pale drapery slumbereth on
In silence deep, and equally alone,

Save one, who holds a new and humble grave.

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