And down the pleasant river and up the | And asked of one who sat him down
slanting hill
The echoing chorus sounded through the He roused himself; 'twas but to say,

evening calm and still;

And her glad blue eyes were on me as we

passed with friendly talk

To rest how long the town had stood.

"The town has stood for many a day,
And will be here for ever and aye."

Down many a path beloved of yore, and A thousand years went by, and then

well-remembered walk;

And her little hand lay lightly, confidingly,

in mine;

But we'll meet no more at Bingen-loved

Bingen on the Rhine."

His trembling voice grew faint and hoarse, his grasp was childish weak,

His eyes put on a dying look, he sighed and ceased to speak;

His comrade bent to lift him, but the spark of life had filed:

The soldier of the Legion in a foreign land I passed the selfsame place again is dead.

she looked down

And the soft moon rose up slowly, and calmly There, in the deep of waters cast
His nets one lonely fisherman,
On the red sand of the battlefield with bloody And as he drew them up at last
I asked him how that lake began.
Yes, calmly on that dreadful scene her pale He looked at me, and laughed to say,
light seemed to shine,
"The waters spring for ever and aye,

corses strewn ;

As it shone on distant Bingen-fair Bingen And fish are plenty every day.' on the Rhine.

CAROLINE E. NORTON.

A thousand years went on, and then

I passed the selfsame place again.

And there a glorious city stood,

And 'mid tumultuous market-cry

66

The nerve of that strong arm which used to cleave

The proudest foeman like the sapling spray! Oh, friends, the dimness of the grave doth steal

I asked, When rose the town, where wood, Over those eyes that as the eagle dared

Pasture and lake forgotten lie?"

They heard me not, and little blame;
For them the world is as it came,
And all things must be still the same.

The noontide sunbeam. Let me hear your

voice

Once more-once more!

"In vain! The ear is sealed

Which caught the rustle of the lightest leaf

Where the close ambush lay. Come back, come back!

Hear my last bidding, friends: Lay not my bones

Near any white man's bones. Let not his hand

Hence, hence! Ye shall not see me when I Touch my clay pillow, nor his hateful voice

"How cold the dew

Sing burial-hymns for me. Rather than
dwell

In Paradise with him, my soul would choose
Eternal darkness and the undying worm.
Ho! heed my words, or else my wandering
shade

Shall haunt ye with its curse!"

And so he died, Starts o'er my temples! Wipe it not That pagan chief, the last strong banner

Shame on your tears! Leave me alone with Of the poor Senecas. No more the flash
Death,
Of his wild eloquence shall fire their ranks
For I will meet him as a brave man should, To mortal combat. His distorted brow,
And hurl defiance at him.

What is this?

Ha! He hath smote the lion! Was it well
To steal upon me in my unarmed bed,
Most potent enemy? How hast thou cut

And the stern grapple when he sank in

death,

Sadly they grave upon their orphan hearts
As to their rude homes in the forest-glade
Mournful they turned.

LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY.

"You have heard of the Danish boy's whis- | The maiden laughed out in her innocent glee: tle of wood?

I wish that that Danish boy's whistle were mine.'

"And what would you do with it? Tell me," she said,

While an arch smile played over her beautiful face.

"I would blow it," he answered; “and then my fair maid

What a fool of yourself with your whis

tle you'd make!

For only consider how silly 'twould be
To sit there and whistle for what you
might take."

ROBERT STORY.

WE PARTED IN SILENCE.

WE parted in silence, we parted by night,

On the banks of that lonely river;

Would fly to my side, and would here take Where the fragrant limes their boughs unite,

her place."

"Is that all you wish it for? That may be

yours

Without any magic," the fair maiden cried:

"A favor so slight one's good-nature secures;"

And she playfully seated herself by his side.

"I would blow it again," said the youth, "and the charm

Would work so that not even Modesty's

check

We met and we parted for ever!
The night-bird sung, and the stars above
Told many a touching story

Of friends long passed to the kingdom of
love,

Where the soul wears its mantle of glory.

We parted in silence. Our cheeks were wet

With the tears that were past controlling: We vowed we would never-no, never-forget,

And those vows at the time were con-
soling;

But those lips that echoed the sounds of mine
Are as cold as that lonely river;

Would be able to keep from my neck your And that eye, that beautiful spirit's shrine,

fine arm."

She smiled, and she laid her fine arm

round his neck.

Has shrouded its fires for ever.

And now on the midnight sky I look,
And my heart grows full of weeping;

*Yet once more would I blow, and the Each star is to me a sealed book