Dread in his eyes, and yet a struggling faith Of scarlet poppies; "speak!" Avolio said, "What art thou? speak! I charge thee in God's name;" Its huge throat writhed, whence bubbling with a throe Broke like a mudded rill; "bethink thee well! And front tempestuous, "hold! no tongue save mine Thine ear to the sad story of my grief, And with thine ear, yield, yield me thy belief Foul as I am, there was a time O! youth! When these fierce eyes were founts of love and truth, Glowed through the flush of roses in my face, I cursed the great Diana! I defied The night's immaculate Goddess, argent-eyed, The eternal might which looks so cold and calm, A monster meet for Tartarus! a thing Down to the last age my abhorred crime Of frenzied eagerness that seemed to fill Her cavernous eyes with jets of lurid fire; "And if I do accord thee thy desire," Whereby to snare and slay me?" "O! man! man!' The Serpent answered with a loftier mien, In bloom and music, when we bend above, Lurks in her nature; I will do the deed, Christ and the Virgin save me at my need!" He signed the monster nearer, closed his eyes, And with some natural shuddering, some deep sighs, What followed then?-a traitorous serpent hiss A warm rich clinging mouth approach and melt They rested on a maiden tall and fair, Fair as the tropic morn, when morn is new; And her sweet glances smote him through and through With such keen-thrilling rapture, that he swore His willing heart should evermore adore Such loveliness, and woo her till he died ; "I am thine own," she said, "thine own dear bride, Swiftly the news of this most strange event Exalted, for brave deeds, and faith divine, Him and his followers, did Avolio feast And a quic motion to Avolio's side BEAUTIFUL EARTH. Beautiful earth, with the flow'rs Wearying never In loving endeavor; Beautiful earth, let me rest In tenderest keeping! Peacefully lie in thy breast, Never more weeping, FREELY TRANSLATED FROM THE "SCENES HOLLANDAISES,' OF HILDEBRAND. (NICHOLAS BEETS.) I.-How Hot it Was, and how Far to Go!-It was on a Friday, in a certain Dutch city, on a very warm afternoon-so burning an afternoon, that the sparrows gaped on the house-tops-an expression intended to convey the greatest degree of heat imaginable. A brilliant sun burnt up the streets, and baked the pavements, which were almost reduced to powder. In those streets, which had a Southern exposure, and consequently, at this moment, no shade, the foot passengers were in despair. The itinerant venders of cherries and gooseberries paused incessantly, to wipe their foreheads with their aprons; the watermen-who, during the leisure moments that their nautical occupations afford them, have the habit of leaning over the railings of bridges, till they have thus acquired the pleasing appellation of posts to protect fools-were now stretched on the water-side, with a cup of milk near them, in stead of the habitual glass of gin. The bricklayers, seated at the foot of their ladders, leaning on their elbows, blew away at their tea longer than ever. The servant-maids, sent on errands, could scarcely drag along the children, who would accompany them, in the hope of receiving a prune or a fig from the grocer; and they looked with profound pity at the house-maids, who, with flushed faces, and cap-strings untied, were cleaning the street. No one seemed comfortable, except, here and there, an old man, who, with a blue cotton night-cap, and black cloth slippers, his feet resting upon a bench, smoked his pipe under the shelter of his own porch, with a wall-flower and a balsam for company, rejoicing that the good old weather had come back. When such a temperature as this reigns, we really have less compassion than we should, for stout people. It is true, that often when with calmness and tranquillity, one might be able to accommodate one's self to the heat, these fat mortals come and overwhelm one, puffing and blowing at one's side, and showing an almost irresistable temptation to take off their cravats-but, how they must suffer these poor creatures! Fat men, and fat women, of this universe, whether you are still able to see your own knees and feet, or whether you have long since renounced the hope of ever again contemplating that portion of yourselves, whatever may be the number of those who sneer at your size-in the breast of Hildebrand beats a heart which compassionates your sufferings! Among the stoutest individuals of the present day, Mr. Henry John Bruis deserves, if not the very first place, at least, a very high one. It was one of his privileges, never to meet an old acquaintance without being saluted by, "How very fat you have grown!" while any one who had not seen him for a fortnight, was sure to declare, "that he was larger than ever." He perceived clearly, by a thousand warnings from relations, friends, and physicians, that they all consid ered him on the verge of apoplexy; replied the boy, "the second door and yet his natural inclination prompted him to do, to eat, and to drink, all those things that were eminently hurtful and calculated to increase his corpulence, and to excite his blood in all possible ways. He belonged, in fact, to that unhappy race, who, in summer, are always hot-thanks to their size; and who, in summer and winter are hot, thanks to their irritability, their quickness of tongue, and their constant agitation of mind. On this warm afternoon, of which I have tried to give an idea, towards five o'clock, Mr. Henry John Bruis was traveling along one of these streets, which I have described, in this city, which I have not named. He was walking much too fast, considering his size and the weather. In one hand, he held his hat, in the other, a yellow silk pocket handkerchief, and his bamboo cane, with a round ivory head. With this cane, he incessantly hit his forehead, while striving to wipe the moisture from it. Behind him, trotted a little urchin, who carried his overcoat and his valise. This young loafer, had neither hat nor cap; his blue jacket was ornamented with a black patch on one elbow, and a gray one, on the other; its first button, a black bone one, was fastened into the fourth but ten-hole whilst its second, of a dingy brass, was joined to the sixth button-hole. He had the good fortune to wear no stockings, which must have been cool and pleasant on such a day, and the jagged ends of his trowsers were tucked into his wooden shoes. "Well, where is it, boy, where is it?" asked Mr. Henry John Bruis, impatiently. "That first house, with the steps," from the pork-butcher, next to the house where you see the 'spies."*" "Yes, yes, yes," said Mr. Bruis. The pork-butcher's and the "spies," were passed, and the fat man found himself on the threshold of Dr. Deluw, his College chum, and whom he had not seen since his marriage; for Mr. Bruis lived in a little town of the province of Overyssel, where he was Doctor of Laws, without being a lawyer; husband without being a father; a member of the parish board, and a merchant. He had business just now at Rotterdam, and, in spite of the great heat, had made a diversion from his straight road, to visit his friend, Dr. Deluw, and to make the acquaintance of his friend's wife and children. He rang the bell hastily, and took his overcoat on his own arm. "Here, my boy," he said, "I don't want you any more." The urchin took himself off at great speed, not exactly because it was pleasanter, but because he had received a larger compensation than he had expected, and his father was ignorant of his good luck. In an instant, he had disappeared, and, I make no doubt, was already regaling himself, with a cucumber soaked in vinegar, a measure of fried peas or some other such dainty, highly prized by young gentlemen of this class and for which, we cannot too soon inspire a just horror in the minds and to the palates of well brought up children. Meanwhile, Dr. Deluw's door did not open, and Mr. Bruis found himself obliged to ring again. The bell sounded vigorously and clearly, proving that it was of eminently good metal; but, Mr. Bruis per Mirrors, very common in Holland and Flanders, which are placed outside the windows and reflect all that passes in the streets. |