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kept on till twilight, when I reached a large solitary | gloomy, and in the dim light, almost fearful. Vast building standing by the road. It was inhabited by masses of rock clung to the side of the mountain, some forest superintendent or other functionary, and "Even as a wretched soul, hour after hour, is the second highest dwelling in the Hariz. As the Clings to the mass of life, yet clinging, lears ; office of landlord was also included in the occupant's

And leaning, makes more dark the dread abyss

In which it fears to fall;" duties, I determined at once to spend the night there. The only residents were the landlord and his wife, over and through the crevices were twisted the bony two servants and a young man of polished manners,

roots of the pines, and down in the chasms I heard J'et of quiet and reserved appearance, who seemed the foaming of the swollen streams. This is the to be living there as much for the solitude of the path by which Faust and Mephistopheles ascended place as any other cause. After supper he was

the Brocken, and the storm which heralded my demore communicative, and by drawings and descrip- scent into it reminded me of Goethe's description : tions gave me a very good idea of the remaining " The night with mist is thick and black; eight miles to the summit of the Brocken, which I

Hark, how the forests roar and crack !

The hooting owls aflrighted fly. was to try alone on the morrow. All night the Shivered fall the columns tall winds howled around the house as if all the witches

Of the palaces of piue.

See the uniting boughs entwinewere abroad. It was the second of May, the night The mighty trunks that bend and groanafter their yearly conclave.

The hard roots grating on the stone!

Mingling confusedly and madly, all I have related elsewhere my ascent through snow- Over each other are heaped in the fall, drills and snow-clouds-up rocky ravines and over

Aud around the crags, so wet and foul,

The winds in fury hiss and howl!" mountain marshes-till I reached the Brocken House drowned with rain, a most woful-loooking traveler. I thought of this ghostly passage and remembered After drying beside a stove like a furnace, and a the caution given me by the old herdsman. But no dinner which sent the blood warm and tingling through wrinkled hag, coursing on her he-goat the haunted my limbs, I put the Brocken-nosegay of moss and paths of the Brocken interrupted my progress, and lichens in my knapsack and passing the witches' the cheerful lights of Elbingerode soon glimmered cauldron, took the path for Schierke. It led down through the wood. the southern side of the mountain, and the Brocken The next day I set out for the Rosstrappe, but host (Herr Nese, who for fifty years past has intro- again went astray and came to a village on the river duced his Spectre to poets, peasants, philosophers Bode, deep down under steep mountains and the and princes) showed me a pile of rocks just under the abode of miners. The people told me of two noted summit, where a few weeks before, his dogs had caves within half an hour's walk, but the rain had found a handwerker buried in a snow-drift and on again set in, and I hastened forward toward the the point of perishing. A half-hour's walk brought Rosstrappe, the greatest wonder of the Hartz. The me below the region of snow, but not that of rain, scenery was no longer so lonely and exciting in its for the clouds were gathered over the mountains to character. Open, upland plains, with occasional the right. As I reached the first forests they rolled forests, skirted the road, and the men and women up black and swift and the drops began to fall hard at work in their scanty fields and gardens saluted me and heavily. Observing a little thicket of scrubby with many a shout of laughter as I trudged along pines, I lay down on the ground and crawled under through the wood. Roads branched off in all direcil, where I coiled myself up in the close and fragrant rions from the main one, and left to my own judgcovert, just as the floodgates were opened. A perfect ment as to the proper course, I continued on till I deluge succeeded; the trees roared and battled in the reached the river, and saw a litile hamlet on its wind; the gullies on either side were full of foaming banks. At the only inn-a hut with two rooms—an water and the air was nearly as dark as night. But old grandam told me I had missed the way. The scarcely a drop found its way through my shelter. I Rosstrappe was iwo hours distant, and I could not lay there warm and snug in the midst of a wild and find it without a guide. The men were all away in dreary storm, and never shall I forget my exquisite the woods, but a neighbor of hers would go with me sense of happiness while it lasted.

if I would give her a few groschen. To this I willJust before sunset I came out upon a slope of rich ingly consented, and the kind old woman dried my green pasture where several boys were lending a blouse carefully by the fire and brought me a dinner flock of cattle. The sky was then partially clear of bread and milk. but cold, and as I was anxious to reach a village be- After dinner the neighbor made her appearance, fore dark, 1 left the road 10 ask them my nearest way. with a large empty basket and announced herself One question succeeded another, and having told ready to start. My landlady rolled up in a paper a them to what country I belonged, I must needs stay large slice of bread and thrust it into my pocket, with them awhile and tell them about it. We sat on charging me iwo groschen (6 cents) for my dinner. a rock and talked until the shadow of the opposite I was about to shoulder my knapsack, when my mountain fell over us, when I left them. They had guide asked for it, saying she had brought her basket friends in America, and one of them thought he might on purpose for it. I hesitated at first; the thought of visit them when he grew older.

walking unencumbered, with a woman carrying my They delayed me so long that the foot.path I had baggage seemed unchivalric, to say the least. I taken, through a deep and rocky hollow, was very made a rapid comparison between my weakness and

fatigue and the distance still to be traversed, and Rosstrappe twice over. When night came they decided by placing the knapsack in her basket and were still here under the trees, drinking, and as it assisting her to lift it upon her head. Of we went, began to rain and they were not able to find their under a clear sky, for the first time since I entered way, the dear Lord knows, what was to be done but the Hartz. Through fine open forests and along pre- keep them? We have no rooms for so many here, cipices overhanging the Bude-past the hunting. you see; so I told them to take this chamber where grounds of the Dukes of Brunswick and across dells we are sitting and sleep as they best might. But fragrant with spring flowers-so we walked, for no sleep had I nor my good man; there was nothing nearly two hours, till the cottage-inn of the Ross- but singing and yelling the whole night. About midtrappe was visible through a vista of trees. Here 1 night there was a terrible rap on my door. “Himmel! took the knapsack and dismissed my guide with a I cried, 'what is the matter?' and I started up in ten-groschen-piece, which I had been told was the great fright."O mein Gott !' said one of the stuusual fee. It was evidently much more than she dents, 'there are wolves at the door.' Now there expected.

never was a wolf near the house, but I feared it After I had seen the Rosstrappe, and hung over might be a spirit, or something as frightful, so I put the fearsul chasm where the Bode thunders and foams on my gown as quick as I could and lit my lamp, for seven hundred feet below, not forgetting to note the they had overturned theirs in their fright. When I marvelous giant hoof-mark in the rock, I went back came into the room I found them all in one corner, to the inn. The landlady gave me the whole story looking very wild and pale. “There are no wolves of the Rosstrappe while she brought and uncorked here,' said I. Just then a night-owl among the trees a bottle of birkensaft, or birch sap, for which the began to hoot. “There it is, there it is again!' they Hariz is celebrated. This beverage, which is made cried, but I laughed, although I was very angry, to in no other part of the world, consists of the sap of be called up for an owl. 'Go to sleep, you fools!' the birch tree, sweetened and suffered to ferment I said to them, do you not know better than to be slightly. It is of a bright pink color and delicious frightened by a hoo-hoo! The next morning they taste. I had the table brought to the door, where I were very much ashamed, as they truly might be, could see the savage defile below, while the landlady for I tell about their fright to every body who comes seated herself opposite with her knitting and gave here.” her tongue full play. Such a tongue! the words At the Rosstrappe, I bad reached the eastern ex. came in an everlasting stream, and the faster she tremity of the Hartz, and after I descended the moun. talked the harder she knit; so that one yarn kept tain my way was enlivened by bloomy orchards and pace with the other, and my visit increased the growth springing grain. At sunset I was so far out in the of her stocking considerably.

plain of the Elbe that I could see the snowy top of “ There was once a pack of wild students here," the Brocken, free from clouds. This was my last said she, among the other marvelous stories she view of the bleak and spectral mountain. Afier a related; “ though all students are wild enough, as is night of terror at Halberstadı, (an account of which quite natural; but these fellows (I remember every the reader will find in my narrative of travel,) I took one of them) made a terrible noise all afternoon, with the cars for Leipsic, which I reached the next night, their songs and their wine-bottles, and what not. and where I found a companion waiting for me. So They climbed down the rocks to the Bode and up ended my Lonely Week of Travel in Northern again, and I must needs tell them the story of the Germany.



On ! the bright and sunny days that long, long since were Then ask me not thy love and faithlessness so coldly to ours,

forget, Will they ne'er return again, with their wealth of sum- Or that our early destinies have once so sadly met. mer flowers;

Can the sea blot out the burning stars reflected on its The sweet approving smile—the low, soft gentle tone, breast, With its murmured words of love, are they forever flown? Or the caged bird forget the haunts where first it built its And from thy heart are banished all memories of me.

nest? As a cloud upon the summer sky, a shadow o'er the sea ? The wildest storm that rocks the one, gives place to stars

again, Oh! deeply have I trusted, while I listened to thy vow,

And though the captive bird sings on,

't is a loved greenAnd dreamed not that deceit could rest upon so fair a

wood strain! brow; But well unto my heart the bitter lesson has been taught The ocean-shell forgets not its low, sweet plaintive moan, That oft love's words, when sweetest, with deceitfulness Nor the human harp the tones that once were all its own; are fraught,

But quivering on its strings, there ever will be found And though the slighted heart may bide its bitterness of An echo-tone of memory-an unforgotten sound

And though the chords be broken-its glad music at an end, There is yet a fount of sorrow, the world may neyer With its murmured melody, a strain of other years will know.





I do n't think I ever really loved but once; fancies I, believing you true, I have had, and fond ones, too; but now when the

May have learned to love you, cold, gray twilight of age is dimming the visions of And you 'll leave me all lonely, without any heart! the past, memory still recalls, with wonderful power, You have cautioned me well, and have done but your duty; one bright face from the fair picture gallery of my The proverb says truly, “ Forearmed, when forewarned," early loves—the face of Edla Fane, the schoolmas. And though I can boast not of wealth or of beauty, ler's daughter. Beautiful she was not, and yet II yield not one feeling, I think would be scorned.

When a lover I find loved her, as I learned too late. She seemed to bind

Who knows his own mind! me by some spell of witchery that I could not with. I will give up my heart in return for his vow; stand, and yet against which I rebelled, because it

I must have all or none, appealed not to my outer senses. I understand it

Must be wooed to be wonnow; she bound me by the might of a lofty, spiritual And now I'll advise you, if you will allow. love ; and I blindly cast aside that gem of countless You at once must restrain all expression of feeling, price to grasp the dross of earth.

Not only of words, but of glances and sighs, High-toned, and pure-minded, tender, and con- Lest by some odd mischance the strange secret revealing, fiding as a child, yet with a sweet womanly pride, Your friendship should prove to be—“ love in disguise !" and withal a dash of quiet humor, Edla Fane kept

Remember, take care, me vacillating near her for a many months. At one

I bid you beware, time feeling as though I could fall at her feet and

For Cupid 's a sly, little mischievous elf,

When you think your heart free worship her, at another fearing I had expressed 100

He may bind it to me, much, and withdrawing in cold reserve.

And make you prove constant in spite of yourself. One evening a cold mood came over me; I feared 1 had committed myself in my ardent protestations You will sue for one glimpse of old feeling in vain ;

Then, when I have plighted my vows to another, 10 Edla, and now spoke with the calmness of friend,

For when once the bright Aame of affection you smother, ship or platonic affection. She listened with a slight You never can kindle its brilliance again ; curve of her expressive lip, and assented to my I'll turn proudly away, proposal of affectionate friendship so readily, that And will calmly say nay, my self-love was aroused, and with characteristic (While I look on you coldly, not seeming to see,) variableness my feelings gained immediate force

I esteem, and admire, again. But Edla remained unmoved. The next day Think well of me always, but never love me!

That is all you desireI received the following lines in a blank envelop.

Provoking! thus to have my own words turned You say that you love me, yet are not a lover;

against me, at the close of these unexpected verses. As you know not yourself what it is you intend;

I saw Edla frequently after this; but my evanescent And right sorry are you, I have chanced to discover, That you ’re less than a lover, and more than a friend!

vows, were never after tolerated even for a moment, you know you

and thus, when 100 late, her prophecy was fulfilled And think there is danger,

-I loved her. But Edla Fane is now a happy wise That when you are weary, and wish to depart,

and mother, and I-a Bachelor.


're a ranger,

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Where the soul harbors when this life is o'er,

And closed our war with Time,
And the hushed belfry of the heart no more

Rings with a numbered chime.



We present our readers with an engraving of the of its erection, must have been considered rather an birth-place of the celebrated American painter, Ben elegant country residence; but its antiquity and state jamin West, from an original drawing made by Mr. of decay will probably prevent any future attempt to Croome, in the year 1815. The house is situated in put it in repair. The spot, however, will always be the township of Springfield, Pennsylvania, about interesting to Americans, from its having been the four miles north of Chester, on a considerable farm scene of West's childhood, to which are referred belonging to Mr. Peter Stewart. It will be perceived those delightful and well known anecdotes, of his that the house is in rather a dilapidated condition, early life, which display the dawnings of that brilone of the posts of the portico being deficient. The liant genius which was destined to astonish the house is substantially built of brick, and, at the time I world by its achievements in the graphic art.




FROM orient climes to the lands that glow

In the last red light of even, Indian, Paynim, Moslem, Jew

All have their dreams of Heaven.

Zion rebuilt, and the land restored,

To his forefathers given,
Is the Hebrew exile's guerdon high,

His earnest here of Heaven.

The Norseman chief, in the olden time,

Sprang up, with Valkyrinr calls
Ringing shrill and clear in his dreaming ear-

“Up! come to · Valhalla's Halls !! ;
Would ye know how the chieftain sought those halls ?

-Away to the battle-plain-
The warrior sleeps on the ghastly heaps,

His own red sword has slain !

The Mostem dreams of a green,

fair clime, Lit up by the sun's broad beams, Where flowers gaze down at their own bright forms

In still transparent streams; Where soft winds sigh, and gay

birds sing,
In tones so sweetly clear;
Where palm groves rustle cool and still,

And bright-eyed louries cheer;
Where the banquet waits, with its viands crowned,

And the wine-cup's rosy gleam,
While soft luxuriant bowers around,

Invite to recline and dream: Such is the vision of future bliss

To the Prophet-followers givenThe "true-believer's goal of hope,

The Moslem's dream of Heaven, The Indian dreams of a sunset land,

Where the great Manitto reigns ;
Where deer and stately bison roam

O'er broad, uncultured plains.
A land whose giant lakes and streams,

With gleaming fish abound;
Where forests wave, and mountains tower

A boundless hunting-ground.
'Tis his dream, as he calmly looks abroad

On the sunset glow, at even-
A hunting-ground, where that sun sinks down,

Is the Indian's dream of Heaven.

Visions of blood, in that dying hour,

To his stormy soul were given-
Feasts, and victorious battle-fields,

Were the Norseinan's dreams of Ileaven.
The Greek had high, ambitious dreams,

Of Elysium's fabled clime;
The Druid too-ah, many and strange

Were the dreams of olden time.
How will those dreams accord with thee,

When time exists no more,
Unseen, unknown, unpictured realm

Beyond the silent shore?
Now, shines the gospel sun, the mists

Of Error roll away;
And earth, from pole to central zone,

Rejoices 'neath its sway.
Like some tired wanderer of the deep,

The Christian struggles on;
While day and night, in calm or storm,

How yearns his heart for home!

The Jew of his New Jerusalem dreams,

With its streets of shining gold, And temples, that rival the regal fane

On Moriah's brow of old.

Dreams he of sensual joys? the chase?

Some ruined city, lone?
Of feasts and battle-fields ? Not so

His is a spirit-home.

Still dreams, that Judah's harps shall sound,

Aud Judah's pennons stream, Where now muezzin's calls are heard,

And Moslem crescents gleam.

To Him, who formed yon glorious sky,

This green enameled sod,
The Christian trusts his future home

His architect-is God.

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