That might have brought him hither years before, "Ah! then," she cried, "you knew not England's shore; And, had you come,-and wherefore did you not?"

'Yes,” he replied, "it would have changed our lot!"

Then burst her tears through pride's restraining

bands,

And with her handkerchief, and both her hands,

She hid her face and wept.-Contrition stung

THEODRIC for the tears his words had wrung. "But no," she cried, "unsay not what you've said, Nor grudge one prop on which my pride is stay'd;

To think I could have merited your faith,

Shall be

my

solace even unto death!"

"JULIA," THEODRIC said, with purposed look

Of firmness," my reply deserved rebuke;

But by your pure

and sacred peace of mind,

And by the dignity of womankind,

Swear that when I am gone you I'll do your best

To chase this dream of fondness from your breast."

Th' abrupt appeal electrified her thought ;She look'd to Heav'n, as if its aid she sought, Dried hastily the tear-drops from her cheek, And signified the vow she could not speak.

Ere long he communed with her mother mild: "Alas!" she said, "I warn'd-conjured my child, "And grieved for this affection from the first, "But like fatality it has been nursed;

"For when her fill'd eyes on your picture fix'd,

"And when your name in all she spoke was mix'd,

""Twas hard to chide an over-grateful mind!

"Then each attempt a likelier choice to find

"Made only fresh-rejected suitors grieve,

"And UDOLPH's pride-perhaps her own-believe "That could she meet, she might enchant ev'n you. "You came.-I augur'd the event, 'tis true,

"But how was UDOLPH's mother to exclude "The guest that claim'd our boundless gratitude? "And that unconscious you had cast a spell

"On JULIA's peace, my pride refused to tell

"Yet in my child's illusion I have seen,

"Believe me well, how blameless you have been:

"Nor can it cancel, howsoe'er it end,

"Our debt of friendship to our boy's best friend." At night he parted with the aged pair;

At early morn rose JULIA to prepare

The last repast her hands for him should make;

And UDOLPH to convoy him o'er the lake.

The parting was to her such bitter grief,
That of her own accord she made it brief;
But, ling'ring at her window, long survey'd
His boat's last glimpses melting into shade.

THEODRIC Sped to Austria, and achieved His journey's object. Much was he relieved When UDOLPH's letters told that JULIA's mind Had borne his loss firm, tranquil, and resign'd. He took the Rhenish route to England, high Elate with hopes,-fulfill'd their ecstasy,

And interchanged with CONSTANCE's own breath

The sweet eternal vows that bound their faith.

To paint that being to a grovelling mind

Were like pourtraying pictures to the blind. 'Twas needful ev'n infectiously to feel

Her temper's fond and firm and gladsome zeal,

To share existence with her, and to gain

Sparks from her love's electrifying chain,

Of that pure pride, which less'ning to her breast

Life's ills, gave all its joys a treble zest,

Before the mind completely understood

That mighty truth-how happy are the good!—

Ev'n when her light forsook him it bequeath'd Ennobling sorrow; and her memory breath'd A sweetness that surviv'd her living days

As od'rous scents outlast the censer's blaze.