Of whom thou wert the image true Who art transplanted to the skies To blossom there forever more Amid the FLOWERS OF PARADISE. Thus shalt thou leave this world of sin, Where angels wait to let thee in And those who had nowhere to rest Shall lay their heads upon God's breast, There, Death's dark shades no more shall be The mystic veil between The World which we desire to see, And that which we have seen. There, father, brother, husband, wife There, mother, sister, friend, Shall be united, as in life, No In joys that never end. pangs shall there disturb the thrills But Angels, on the Heavenly Hills, Shall sing thee into rest. No slanderous tongue shall there inflame. For all shall be in Heaven the same, And God shall be in all. As graceful as the Babylonian willow Bending, at noontide, over some clear stream In Palestine, in beauty did she seem Upon the cygnet-down of her soft pillow; And now her breast heaved like some gentle billow Swayed by the presence of the full round moonVoluptuous as the summer South at noon Her cheeks as rosy as the radiant dawn, When Heaven is cloudless! When she breathed, the air Around was perfume! Timid as the fawn, And meeker than the dove, her soft words were Like gentle music heard at night, when all Around is still until the soul of care Was soothed, as noontide by some waterfall. The poems of Dr. Chivers abound in what must undoubtedly be considered as gross demerit, if we admit the prevalent canons of criticism. But it may safely be maintained that these prevalent canons have, in great part, no surer foundation than arrant conventionality. Be these things as they may, we have no hesitation in saying that we consider many of the pieces in the volume before us as possessing merit of a very lofty — if not of the very loftiest order. THE FORTUNE HUNTER; OR THE ADVENTURES OF A MAN ABOUT Town. A NOVEL OF NEW YORK SOCIETY. By Mrs. Anna Cora Mowatt, author OF FASHION, ETC. NEW YORK. WILLIAM TAYLOR. [Text: Broadway Journal, Aug. 2, 1845.] We have received this novel at too late a period to do more than mention it this week, and make an ex tract from its pages. Hereafter we shall do it that full justice which is demanded by the celebrity and varied talent of its fair author. As a specimen more of manner than matter, we copy the whole of Chapter IV: "Oh! Love, young Love, bound in thy rosy bands!" BYRON. Arria SO "Pray, Miss Walton do not pray quicken your pace," said Mr. Chadwick a few moments after he and Miss Walton had left the house of the Clintons. "Excuse me; I was hurrying home like another Cinderella- for the hour at which I was ordered at which I promised to return, has already struck. Had we not better make haste? "Must you, then, abridge a pleasure which I have so seldom enjoyed so long anticipated, that of acting as your protector, and being alone with you?" said he, in a tremulous voice. Arria replied not, but her step- - perhaps unconsciously became slower. More than a square further they walked in perfect silence. "Arria!" "Mr. Chad "Say Edgar, rather; have we not known each other long enough for you to call me by that name? To me it seems as though you had been a familiar spirit, ever since I learned to dream of woman. You are the Egeria that, in my earliest youth, I pictured to myself and thought I could love — the one being in whom I find my beau ideal, in manhood, and whom, therefore, I do love! Am I presumptuous in saying this? Have I hoped too much, because you evinced toward me the same frank and affectionate manner with which you delight your friends? Was it all my own hopeful folly, when I fancied sometimes that I had awakened your sympathy? Nay, that was not the word I should have used, for I know how fully you sympathize with all around you. Will you not I-you dear Arria! permit me to call you by that name? his your The timid glance, — the moist eye a moment lifted to - the trembling arm he held within his own these spoke all that Arria's tongue refused to express. "I have not, then, deceived myself! murmured Edgar, in a voice tremulous with happiness. "You listen to me you do not turn away? You—- oh! you have been all the world to me, and you permit me to hope that I am something to you. The thought of you, Arria, has for many anxious months formed my whole happiness. Do you believe it in my power to form yours? Will you trust it in my keeping?" "If I can always make you feel as joyful as now, my happiness will be secured," half whispered Arria. "You will consent, then, ever to remain near me, and cheer my hours of solitude ; ever to teach me such sweet and holy lessons of truth and goodness as I have always learned from your lips-to give me some foretaste of that abode of future happiness, in the reality of which only the existence of such beings as you are could make me believe? And what have I to offer in return? Edgar fancied he heard Arria breath " your love!" but it was the expression of her countenance rather than the movement of her lips which conveyed the idea. "I have only the wealth of the heart to lay at your feet," he continued, with a touch of humor which was natural to him: “and that will not purchase house and lands,' and all else that, if we had the fairy's wishing cap, we might desire. I am but a young student, with all the gold I may ever possess not yet disencumbered from the rough soil of my brains. But as I am now, even so was my father thirty years ago, and he rides in his carriage to-day. I have health, I have energy, and I hope ordinary abilities. Is not this all that a young man in this happy land need desire? Some foreigner says that it is as easy for an American to make a fortune when he has none, as it is for him to spend one if he chances to have one left to him. I think my prospects bright while Arria smiles, and should they ever be darker" "Her smile must brighten them still?” "It shall it will! Come the worst that Fate can send, that smile shall disarm her wrath. With you to protect, what an incentive shall I have for exertion! And have I indeed secured to myself such a life long source of joy! I can hardly credit my own happiness. Ah! Arria, will you never repent that you consented to become the light of the poor student's home? "Shall I ever love him less? You question my love when you ask." "I would as soon question "Hush! Speak lower; we are just home. Bid me a hasty good night! I am afraid that that is Mrs. Lem ming at the window!' "You shall not thus fear her long, loveliest and best beloved!" "Hush! hush!" whispered Arria timidly. me now I beg of you." "Leave "Adieu, then, mine own Arria mine for ever!" "Adieu, de dear Edgar!" She had hardly uttered the words before the door opened and she sprang into the house. But they resounded in Edgar's ears when he sought his pillow that VOL. XII.-14 |