of his interesting patient. He soon discovered that the Prince was the victim of a political faction. The English ambassador was at the time high in favour with the emperor, and he conceived the plan of interesting that gentleman in the safety of the unfortunate pair. The origin and progress of the intrigue was easily discovered from the old lady who was aunt to the beautiful invalid.

It appeared that Sultaun Feeroze, the son of Sultaun Khosroo, who was the third son of the emperor Jehangeer, having, in the course of a youthful frolic, obtained a sight of Guleyauz, the young and lovely daughter of Mohubut-Khan, then the most powerful noble of the court, was so captivated by her beauty, that though she was then little more than a child, he languished to obtain her. To attempt this otherwise than by marriage, would have been an affront which even the grandson of the Padshah dared not conceive towards a noble so great as Mohubut-Khan, and to such a marriage neither the emperor nor her father would have given their consent; so when the Khan was called away from court by the wars in the Deccan, the young Prince contrived to carry off the lady, and hid her in a retreat, which was discovered by her aunt too late to prevent the ruinous consequences of so rash a step. The Khan, already his father's enemy, swore vengeance against the son; but absence and strict concealment had hitherto averted the storm, and the young and lovely bride remained safe in the retired but luxurious abode which the Prince had provided at

Ajmere, until this fatal evening. It appeared that the servants of the Englishman, alarmed at his prolonged absence, or moved by curiosity to discover its cause, had traced him to the Prince's house, and, conceiving him to be beset by some hidden danger, had applied for a force to search the place. The dependants of Mohubut-Khan, ever on the watch to promote their master's views, very soon discovered or suspected the truth. The rest is already known.

Soothing the trembling mother and miserable wife with hopes of a husband's deliverance, the kindhearted physician hastened to the camp, which he was surprised to find close by; for there was no longer any motive for misleading him by a circuitous route. The English ambassador very readily entered into his views; nor did he find the Emperor obdurate to the voice of mercy pleading for a grandson, against whom he had no positive cause of displeasure, whatever might be the errors of his father; and Jehangeer prided himself too much upon his title of just, to compromise it even in the opinion of a foreigner and a Christian.

The suit was urged, too, at a happy moment - that is to say, at an advanced period of a feast, where the emperor had somewhat forgot his dignity, and the Mussulman the law of his prophet, in copious libations of the forbidden juice of the grape. "Cabool-I grant thy petition," was the gracious reply; "and in return, thou wilt command, for the royal use, some more of that delicious liquor, which it is not for the king to name." Sir Thomas bowed respectfully low,

to conceal the smile which rose to his lip at this singular commutation of a grandson's life for a butt or two of the bright nectar of Xeres, of which the emperor had become somewhat remarkably fond. But the Prince was saved for the time, and the lovers reconciled. With his subsequent history we have not here to do; nor would we hazard inflicting pain upon our fair readers, or disturbing our own equanimity, by searching the dark catalogue of crimes which most commonly close the career of Eastern princes, for a confirmation of our doubts or our fears.

SONNET.

Oh! if thou lov'st me, love me not so well!
For in this ceaseless mingling of the heart
I feel such power of mystery doth dwell,

I sicken with the weight, and weeping start!
Are we of earth, and subject to decay-

Walk we a world of sin, and change, and pain'
Yet dare we own that forms of mortal clay
Our all of wealth and happiness contain?
Oh! surely souls for higher aims were made
Than thus in love's fantastic realm to rove;
And ours might treasure find that ne'er shall fade,
And soar from human to immortal love!

Then, if thou lov'st me, teach my hopes to rise,

And lead my heart with thine home-home into the

skies!

Edinburgh, May, 1832.

GERTRUDE.

AWAY TO THE GREENWOOD.

A Zong.

BY R. F. HOUSMAN.

I.

AWAY to the greenwood

- away with me
To the summer tent of the linden tree;
Where the glimmering beams of sunshine fall,
Like shaded lights in a monarch's hall;
And the elf-tuned harp of the breeze is heard,
With the trilling tones of the viewless bird;
And the waterfall from the echoing steep
Peals like an organ his anthem deep;
And at every pause, the lute-like voice
Of the cuckoo sings-" Rejoice! rejoice!"

II.

Away to the greenwood

-away with me

To the summer tent of the linden tree;
For autumn ere long shall shake the bough
Of the quivering leaves so musical now;
And the flowers decay, and the birds be mute,
And the hoar frost crinkle beneath thy foot;
With lowering skies, and wild tempests loud,
And the cold earth shrunk in her wintry shroud :
Then haste thee, love, while the sweet summer calls,
To the linden tree by the waterfalls.