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Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have

been thy bride

For her, the fair and débonnaire, that now so lowly lies,

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The life upon her yellow hair, but not within her eyes-.

The life still there, upon her hair-the death upon her eyes.

"Avaunt! to-night my heart is light. No dirge will I

upraise,

But waft the angel on her flight with a pæan of old days! Let no bell toll!-lest her sweet soul, amid its hallowed

mirth,

Should catch the note, as it doth float up from the damned Earth.

To friends above, from fiends below, the indignant ghost is riven

From hell unto a high estate far up within the HeavenFrom grief and groan to a golden throne beside the King of Heaven."

B

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FOR her this rhyme is penned, whose luminous eyes,
Brightly expressive as the twins of Loeda,

Shall find her own sweet name, that, nestling lies
Upon the page, enwrapped from every reader.
Search narrowly the lines!-they hold a treasure
Divine-a talisman-an amulet

That must be worn at heart.

Search well the measure

The words-the syllables! Do not forget

The trivialest point, or you may lose your labour !
And yet there is in this no Gordian knot
Which one might not undo without a sabre,
If one could merely comprehend the plot.
Enwritten upon the leaf where now are peering
Eyes' scintillating soul, there lie perdus

Three eloquent words oft uttered in the hearing
Of poets, by poets--as the name is a poet's, too.
Its letters, although naturally lying

Like the knight Pinto-Mendez Ferdinando-
Still form a synonym for Truth.--Cease trying!

You will not read the riddle, though you do the best you can do.

[To translate the address, read the first letter of the first line in connection with the second letter of the second line, the third letter of the third line, the fourth of the fourth, and so on to the end The name will thus appear.]

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TYPE of the antique Rome! Rich reliquary Of lofty contemplation left to Time

By buried centuries of pomp and power!

At length-at length-after so many days

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