Зображення сторінки

The Midnight Wind. MOURNFULLY! 0, mournfully,

This midnight wind doth sigh!
Like some sweet, plaintive melody,

Of ages long gone by!
It speaks a tale of other years-

Of hopes that bloomed to die-
Of suriny smiles that set in tears,

And loves that mouldering lie. Mournfully! 0, mournfully,

This midnight wind doth moan!
It stirs some chord of memory

In each dall, heavy tone;
The voices of the much-loved dead

Seem floating thereupon-
All, all my fond heart cherishod,

Ere death had made it lone.
Mournfully! O, mournfully,

This midnight wind doth swell! With its quaint, pensive minstrelsy

Hope's passionate farewell To the dreamy joys of e

joys of early years, Ere yet grief's canker fell On the heart's bloom-ay! well may tears Start at that parting knell!

MOTHERWELL, 1797—1835.

The Hunter's Song. RISE! Sleep no more! 'Tis a noble morn; The dews hang thick on the fringed thorn, And the frost shrinks back, like a beaten

hound, Under the steaming, steaming ground; Behold, where the billowy clouds flow by, And leave us alone in the clear gray sky! Our horses are ready and steady.-So, ho! I'm gone, like a dart from the Tartar's bow. Hark, hark! Who calleth the maiden morn, From her sleep in the woods, and the stubble corn?

The horn-the horn! The merry sweet ring of the hunter's horn. Now, through the copse where the fox is found, And over the stream at a mighty bound, And over the high lands, and over the low, O'er furrows, o'er meadows, the hunters go! Away as a hawk flies full at his prey, So flieth the hunter, away-away! From the burst at the cover, till set of sun, When the red fox dies, and the day is done! Hark! hark! what sound on the wind is borne? 'Tis the conquering voice of the hunter's horn;

The horn-the horn! The merry, bold voice of the hunter's horn. Sound! sound the horn! To the hunter good, What's the gully deep, or the roaring flood? Right over he bounds, as the wild stag bounds, At the heels of his swift, sure, silent hounds. 0! what delight can a mortal lack, When he once is firm on his horse's back, With bis stirrups short, and his snaffle strong, And the blast of his horn for his morning song? Hark! hark!-Now home, and dream till morn, Of the bold, sweet sound of the hunter's horn.

The horn-the horn! 01 the sound of all sounds is the hunter's horn.


Afternoon in February.
The day is ending,
The night is descending;
The marsh is frozen,

The river dead.
Through clouds like ashes,
The red sun flashes,
On village windows,

That glimmer red.
The snow recommences;
The buried fences
Mark no longer

The road o'er the plain;
While through the meadows,
Like fearful shadows,
Slowly passes,

A funeral train.
The bell is pealing,
And every feeling
Within me responds

To the dismal knell.
Shadows are trailing,
My heart is bewailing,
And tolling within,

Like a funeral bell.


Storm Song.
The clouds are scudding across the moon;

A misty light is on the sea;
The wind in the shrouds has a wintry tune,

And the foam is flying free.
Brothers, a night of terror and gloom

Speaks in the cloud and gathering roar;
Thank God, He has given us broad sea-room

A thousand miles from shore.
Down with the hatches on those who sleep!

The wild and whistling deck have we; Good watch, my brothers, to-night we'll keep,

While the tempest is on the sea! Though the rigging shriek in his terrible grip,

And the naked spars be snapped away, Lashed to the helm, we'll drive our ship

In the teeth of the whelming spray! Hark! how the surges o'erleap the deck!

Hark! how the pitiless tempest raves!
Ah! daylight will look upon many a wreck

Drifting over the desert waves.
Yet, courage, brothers! we trust the wave,

With God above us, our guiding chart,
So, whether to harbour, or ocean-grave,
Be it still with a cheery heart.

BAYARD TAYLOR-BORN 1825. The Merry Lark was Up and Singing. The merry, merry lark was up and singing, And the hare was out and feeding on the lea, And the merry, merry bells below were ringing, When my child's laugh rang through me. Now the bare is snared, and dead beside the

snow-yard, And the lark beside the dreary winter sea, And my baby, in his cradle in the churchyard, Waiteth there until the bells bring me.



We have, in one breath, to say that the his cousin was in love with her too. What did author of "Mary Powell" has been again (it is | he do? He set himself to consider which of her fourth or fifth offence) book-making, and the two would make the girl happiest; decided that the book she has "made" contains really in in favour of his cousin; and-held his tongue. teresting matter. But it is, in truth, precisely so. His rival married Miss Hunt; and miserably

Family Pictures, $c., g c., by the Author of the marriage turned out. The wife died in “ Mary Powell" (Arthur Hall, 'Virtuc, and Co. a consumption, broken-hearted. Joseph had' Pp. 261), is a conspicuous piece of literary twice to pay the extravagant husband's debtsmanufacture-a hash, pure and simple-con amounting, each time, to 10,000l.; and, in other taining family anecdotes--anedotes of royal particulars, behaved as he ought to have done. personages, about whom nobody cares, such as We say ought to have done, because, loving Alexander I. of Russia, the Princess Charlotte, the girl as he is said to have loved her, he must Prince Leopold, and others-scraps of verse have blamed himself for her nisery. We scraps of autobiography-and, lastly, a prose submit that a man has no right to decide befragment of Tasso, now first translated. Now, tween himself and a rival. It is the woman's the anecdotes of royal personages, and such inalienable privilege to do so. His motto like, are downright twaddle; the scraps of should be, "Every man for himself, and God verse are neither this thing nor that; the frag for us all;" and, with that motto on his helm, ment of Tasso is of little interest to a reader he should påt lance in rest for his ladye against uninforined of the known details of the poet's all comers. It would not have altered our life; but the remainder of the volume is read view if the marriage in question had been ever able, reinemberable, and thinkable, as genuine so happy; "it's the principle we object to," as family and autobiographic anecdotes are pretty stingy people say when they refuse to give sure to be.

Christmas-boxes.' We cannot, then, yield to Charles Lamb, in his “Elia,” makes mention | Mr. Paice the unqualified homage and hearty of one “ Joseph Paice, of Bread-street-hill, praise which Miss Manning claims for him. merchant, and one of the Directors of thó He was a very striking specimen of the class of South Sea Company," and goes on to say that character which Miss Manning has been all her he was the only pattern of consistent gallantry life writing up of the sort of people who he had ever met with-à gentleman, it seems, appear to take such a delight in sitting down of the Sir Charles Grandison breed. He would upon themselves, that one hardly doubts if it give the side of honour, in the street, to the | is necessary to pity them for their self-abnegaugliest, raggedest old beggar-woman—would tion. They seem so steadily to take it for stand bareheaded to answer a servant-girl who granted that whatever is unpleasant must be asked her way of him--and tenderly escort, right, that we're glad to find they like it, and with his umbrella held over her head, a poor pass on—thankful, for the world's sake, that the market-woman, whose basket of fruit might majority of men and women are more combative. otherwise be damaged by the shower. Of this Among the little personal matters talked of Mr. Paice, the author of “ Mary Powell”—who, by Miss Manning, we often come across someby-the-bye, puts her signature to this volume, thing nice. Any bit of real life is sure to be “Anne Manning," and inscribes it to her pleasant. She tells how, when she was three nephews-says, “I can only remember my years old, she used to have waking dreams of mother's taking me, at three years old, to the walking on fleecy clouds with the Lord Jesus, bedside of a dying old man, of heavenly aspect,

who gave her a Praver-book. bound in pink who laid his band gently on my head, and kid, as a token of favour! This is worth a said, Sweet lamb.' But when I was only a thousand flunkeyish stories about Leopold and few hours old, he had bent his knee to kiss my Alexander-more especially if "abridged from hand-his homage to the sex in the person of Dr. Pinkerton's Russia.” But the story of the its representative." And Mr. Paice appears to old man living in the little cottage near Clarehave been a rare specimen of his peculiar type mont is not so bad. He was "a character," of character.

and had bought Pope's clock at a sale at We are about to give cynical old bachelors Twickenham. Flattering himself he was going if any snch persons should read this paper-a to do the right thing, and was a first-rate anticapital opening for a sneer. Mr. Paice died quarian, he had it done up! One Saturday unmarried; and ill-natured people may say, if afternoon the old boy saw a young lady and they please, that that accounts for his being gentleman running for shelter from a shower able to keep up the spirit of woman-worship. to his outhouse. So he "goes to the front Never mind; let ill-natured people say what door, and hallos, 'I say, you'd better come in they like: what we are more concerned about here!'"_and in they came. He asked them is the opinion our lady readers may form of into the parlour; but the lady said, “Oh, I'd Nr. Paice's deserts in relation to matrimony. rather go into the kitchen; for I see you have Evidently, he would have been married if he a fire, and my shoes are wet.” The young could. He could not. Now, our verdict is, man began to talk, but made mistakes; said

Berre him right!"—and we want to know if the turf was good turf, while all the while it our friends will support us in delivering it. was bad turf; praised some old "chaney,"

Here are the facts :- When a young man, which was "delft," and so on. But the young Joseph Paice fell in love with a Miss Hunt, of lady looked at the clock; asked about it'; and Ewell; but found out, soon afterwards, that said it was a pity he had had it "done up," as

sotherwise she would have bought it of the old Miss Procter is neither splendid nor weighty, man. Meanwhile, two dogs, which the gentle and these instances, and scores of others, are man had got with him, began gambolling on something lower than "quiet." the peppermint beds. « • Hallo, sir!' says I, There are graver and more ominous fanlts in

do you know I sell my peppermint ?'” But these poems. One is, constant confusion of the rain cleared off, and away scudded the opinion with insight. We doubt if any avowedly guests. Horrible to relate, the old man found controversial book printed this year contains out, before long, that he had been saying more disputable matter than these pages, which “ hallo !" to Prince Albert, and patronising the should, by right, contain none at all. Look. Queen! That he was immediately sent to for instance, at the poem called “Maximus." the Tower, and beheaded for treason next | What is laid down in every verse anthoritatively morning-is not true; but the Queen sent him is mere matter of opinion. Whether it is easier five pounds, and did so every autumn till the to be a good king or a good slave-to forgive man died. He used to send her a basket of or to bear forgiveness-to win or to lose with cherry pippins every season, and, by his will, true continence-depends entirely on circunleft Pope's clock to the Prince.

stances, and chiefly on the constitution of the “Fainily Pictures, &c, &c," contains, we re- individuals concerned. Some men would find peat, pleasant reading; but it is not a good or it easier to be good kings, some to be good a creditable volume. Book-making is rife just slaves, some to win, some to lose. The poem now; the author of “ Mary Powell” has been, called “Optimns" contains equally rarhi and unhappily, one of the most flagrant sinners in inconsequent doctrine; and so on for at least that kind; and her last offence is ber worst. half the volume. A worse blot on its merits

Nearly akin to the error of book-making, is could not exist. A very little deliberate attenthat of working too hard a vein that “takes." | tion would save Miss Procter from strange Of that error, we cannot, we fear, acquit the blunders. In a poem called “Expectation," author of Legends and Lyrics; a Book of very prettily constructed, and likely enough to Verses (Second Volume), by ADELAIDE ANNE be admired and set to music, we have the PROCTER. (Bell and Daldy. 1861).-Readers " King's three daughters on the terrace," before who have read Miss Procter's first volume will the sea. May and Alice complain--one (having hardly-unless they belong to a peculiar order something to hope), that time is slow; the -take very kindly to her second. Mr. Long- other (having soinething to fear), that tiine is fellow, in Evangeline," and some of his other quick. Gwendoline “the youngest," patronizes poems, struck the key-note to which so much both her seniors, and gravely makes these truly of our modern poetry has been accommodated, tremendous statements :that strong, sincere naturs, are beginning to

The Future's fathomless mine of treasures, weary of it.” “Love," “ Service," " Self-sacri All countless hordes of possible pleasures, fice," “ Endurance," are now (more pity!) the Might bring their store to my feet in vain. commonplaces of a school, rather than meaning Andful, pathetic words, as they once were. If the

pot to fear, because all is taken. current supply of these precious things”

Is the loneliest depth of buman pain. bears only a fuir prop stion to the quantity of

With what face could a girl, with two living current talk about them, we are nearer "the sisters, whom she at least pretended to lure, Coming" than the hottest of Plymouth brothers deliver herself of these astounding "sentiwould pretend. But we are suspicious that it ments ? Our judgment is, that Princess is otherwise. The professionally-resigned lady Gwendoline wanted sending to bed without her of the drawing-room is not the angel painted supper, and being set to in the poetry she takes to; she may be seen,

-teach the orphan-boy to read, any evening, in society, with the countenance

And teach the orphan-girl to sew; of a non in a painted window, the pomposity of and that poets should leave off delivering, er a beadle, the snappishness of a lap-dog, and the cathedrů, the cant dogmas of sentimental sects meanness of a small shop-keeper.

as if they were canons of law divine. Of numerous cases of palpable reminiscence Far better, more careful, mire finished, is and iinitation in this voluine we say nothing the workmanship we find in The Wore Wedding. now; but at least the writing might have been Ring, and other Poems. by W. 1. BKSYETT less slovenly. Too often it is necessary, in reading (Chapman and Hall, 1861). Mr. Benne e, also, Miss Procter, to get several verses ahead before wants warning, perhaps, against over-doing one can make out how a poem is to be scanned, what he can do well; but he is always natural, so very careless is the versification. Still more uudogmatic, correct, and never writes nonsense. frequently, the writi.g runs into downright As a domnestic poet, we infinitely prefer bin to prose-e. g. (p. 118), “He was geutle, kind, Dr. Mukay. Sometimes, as in * Mother and aud generous stiil; deferring to her wishes Son," he shows real dramatic power; and always; nothing seemed to mar their tranquil everywhere in his writings we see enough to life;" or (p 120), “That through all those years make it clear that, if he had had leisure and of waiting he had slowly learnt the truth; he opportunity to won a less discursive mase, he had known biinself mistaken, but that, bound might have cut his name deeper in the poetic to her in honour, he renounced his life, to pay literature of the day her for the patience of her youth." This is But this volum · will not, we think, either raise not only pruse, but bad prose. Quiet passages or lower Mr Bennett's position as a poet. Our are used by true poets to relieve the effect of respectful counsel to himn would be to write no splendid or weighty writing, or to give an air more, or, at least, to publish no more, for a of naturalness to improbable incident; but long time.



So many families in Paris, of all classes, are, with ivy, and accompanied by a wreath conin mourning, that, up to this time, this has con sisting of ivy, bawthorn, and anemones. siderably diminished the brilliancy of the Pa HEADDRESSES for balls are generally made risian fêtes, which, at this season of the year, small at the sides, with coronets and cacheare so numerous. Many fashionable people have peignes. The flowers are sometimes divided in not yet commenced their receptions. Several two rows behind--one row being placed underimportant marriages are about to take place; neath the hair, and the other on the top of it. and we will endeavour to describe a few toilets A wreath we saw was made in that manner in preparation for these events.

with violets, with a small round bunch of white One of the brides is to be attired very simply, rosebuds in the front, and a small bunch of the but elegantly. Her dress is to be of white same flowers behind-the hair heing dressed satin, of very rich quality, with a plain but I between the violets and rosebuds. Another very full skírt, and plain body, with a sash round wreath was composed of tea-roses and fastened at the side; this sash having long large velvet heartsease. Again, headdresses ends ronnded at the bottom, and trimmed are mounted with Aowers only in the front, with a narrow gauffered blonde. The top of and with leaves behind; we remarked a very the neck is finished off with a gauffered blonde pretty one, consisting of white chrysantheto correspond; and the under-sleeves consist of mums and wbite geraniums, with green leaves tulle puttings, with gauffered blonde between at the back. each puffing. The coiffure is a wreath of BONXETS are worn with the fronts very much orange blossom, mixed with white rosebuds raised in front, with rather long curtains, and and jpssainine: this wreath is made open be

are generally made in two colours and in two hind, to allow the hair to fall in luxuriant curls different inaterials Some have a velvet foundabetween the flowers. A plain veil of tulle tion with a transparent edge, others are of thicker d'illusion, reaching to the bottom of the skirt, material in the front, with soft tulie crowns coinpletes this elegant but recherché toilet. covered with buws of ribbon or bouquets of

The bride's mother is to wear a ruby velvet feathers. The mixture of black and white still dress: the front of the skirt and the body being continues very much in favour; the colours betriinmed wi h black Spanish lace. A black wides, which are more generally worn, are lilac, velvet shawl, with round ends, embroidered in violet, Solferino, or Magenta. silk and jet, and triinined with two deep black A simple, but at the same time an elegant lace flounces, is to accompany this dress; with bonnet, was composed of white velours épingle, a binnet in white velours épingle, trimined and trimmed with a black velvet fanchon, with small black and ruby feathers, the same spotted with gold. The curtain of white velours colour as the dress.

épingle was bound with a crossway pirce of A friend of the bride's is to wear a bright velvet spotted with gold, and the bonnet was green silk dress, brocaded with beautiful triinmed' with a bunch of black velvet primbouquets of Aowers; the body inade à la Louis roses also interinixed with gold. XV., cut square in front, with a plastron of The front and head-piece of a Solferino silk white satiit, and trimmed with white satin bonnet was divided by an insertion of ruched bows, dininishing in size towards the waist. black lace; the curtain was of black velvet, and The sleeves are half-long, and faced with white the bonnet in front was trimmed with rosettes satin. A narrow Valenciennes lace is put of ribbon and ruched luce placed alternately, a round the body; and a diamond cross, tied sinall jet buckle being fastened in the middle of round the neck with a narrow black Velvet, is each rosette. A violet-coloured velvet bonnet to be worn with this dress.

was trimmed with broad ribbon to match the The bride's sister has the same kind of dress, velvet, crossed on the foundation, with the ends with a grey gronnd, and a black Velvet bas falling over the curtain, the sinall space bequine, with collars and sleeves in Brussels

Is lace. tweeu the ribbon on the bonnet being hilled up Two charining toilets we saw prepared for the with a black lace insertion. The bandeau was ball to celebrate the marriage, consisted of a composed of violet-coloured flowers with gold white tulle dress, triinined at the bottom of the centres, with a small end of black lace falling skirt with double flunces of the same material. on each side. Over the under-skirt, a tunic or upper-skirt A white tulle bonnet may be trimmed with reached to where the flounces coinmenced. Tnis black lace lappets, and fastened at the top by

nic was covered with puffings of tulle, each large velvet heartsease. The bandeau should pnffing being separated by a wreath of flowers. be composed of small feathers, mixed with The berthe consisted of tulle puffings, with flowers to correspond with those on the outside flowers between, to match the tunic, with a of the bonnet. We must not oinit noticing one large bouquet in front, and a small one on more very pretty bonnet; the front of it was either shoulder.

made of white velours épingle, and the back or The other dress was of white Chambéry foundation of green velvet, and trimmed with gauze, embroidered with white silk, and small white and green feathers. A bouquet of these blue stars. It had nine narrow flounces, with feathers was placed inside the bonnet with a a space between each-each flounce being velvet bow, into which a large white feather was headed by a ruched blonde.

fastened. This feather forms the bandeau to Another entirely white dress was trimmed I the bonnet, is then carried to the outside, where

it is secured, the end falling gracefully on the right-hand side,

"Many DRESSES are being made with plain skirts, and with no trimming whatever but a sash, with ends fastened at the side; these ends being trimmed with a small frill of the same material as the dress, or black lace. Other dresses are made with a broad band of velvet at the top of the hem; others with tiny flounces arranged on the front of the skirt, apron fashion. Many persons have their dresses made now with two bodies, so that they may be used for evening toilets or those moins habillées. The following came from the house of a very good dressmaker:--The skirt of a light green silk dress was trimmed with three narrow Aðunces of a darker shade of green, these flounces being put on with a space between each. The high body of the light shade was corded with the dark green, and fastened with dark green silk buttons to match. The berthe of the low body was made of folds of the two shades of green, placed alternately with puffings of tulle in between. A grey silk was made, with a sash to match and three narrow flounces in Solferino silk, at the bottom of the skirt. The buttons on the front of the body, and the frill on the sash, were made of Solferino silk. A black silk dress was trimmed at the bottom with three narrow flounces corded with lilac, these flounces being headed by a broad band of velvet; ten very narrow flounces corded in the same manner were placed up the front of the skirt, apron fassion.

Large velvet PALETOTS, trimmed with sable and various kinds of fur, are at present the favourite out-door garment, except for visites de grande cérémonie, when SHAWLS, or EMBROIDERED VELVET MANTLES, trimmed with very broad lace or guipure, are preferred.

Zouave JACKETS are as much worn as ever; the handsomest of these being made of velvet, and embroidered or braided in gold, steel, silver, or jet. They are also made in embroidered cachemire-black, blue, or crimson.

OPERA, or EVENING CLOAKS, are principally.white, mixed with gold; and are made with a square hood, ornamented with long gold tassels.

For young people, Cloaks for evening wear are made of a new material, half wool and half satin. This new material, a kind of plush, is sometimes striped in gold or colours.

For dinner, or half-evening toilet, le corsage Russe has had a great success. It is composed of puffings of tulle, net, or muslin, mingled with narrow black velvet. The top of the neck is cut square, and bordered by a row of velvet; and the sleeves are also composed of puffings mingled with the same trimming.

Amongst the novelties which give so much charm to the mise Parisienne, we must mention the long embroidered velvet WAISTBANDS and SASHES, which may be worn with any dress, but are particularly elegant with white dresses ; also the pretty Bows for the neck; and Curfs made in velvet, satin, &c., and embroidered in gold; the IMPERATRICE CRAVATS; and the graceful little. Bags, or Pouches, which are worn suspended from the waistband, underneath the Zouaye jackets.


1. Ball Dress.- COIFFURE FERRARIS.The hair is dressed in small curls, and the flowers of the headdress pinned into each curl separately; it is dressed low behind in curls falling on the shoulders. The dress is made of white tulle, trimmed with convolvolus of various colours, or small pink roses and green leaves; the under-skirt being of white silk. The body is very low, pointed in front, and with a berthe of tulle arranged in folds or pleats; and small tulle sleeves, looped up, to show much of the arm. The white silk skirt is gored on each side, so that it is put on the body almost plain; the skirt increasing in follness towards the bottom. The tulle skirt is composed of puffings arranged spirally, commencing from left to right; these puffings diminish in size towards the waist. A beautiful bouquet of convolvolus, or roses, is placed in the front of the body, and a wreath of the same flowers is carried to the left shoulder, round the top of the body behind, to the right shoulder, whence it falls on to the hips at the left side. The wreath continues round and round the skirt, and finishes at the bottom by two large bouquets on the left side.

2. DINNER, OR TOILET DE VILLE.-The bou.net, of black velvet, is trimmed with roses and white feathers, and broad white ribboustrings. Three roses are placed at the top of the bonnet behind, and the same number of flowers in the roiddle of the bandean. The bonnet projects in front, and recedes at the sides; the crown being soft, and falling in a kind of puff on the curtain. The curtain is made of black velvet; and a long white feather falls from the roses on the side of the bonnet, and rests on the curtain behind. Robe Impératrice is made of green satin, trimmed with bands of sable; the body being cut square in front, and almost high behind. The body and skirt are made in one, without a seain at the waist; and the latter has two little pockets in front, also trimmed with sable. The sleeres are large, and pleated into an epaulette; the fulness at the bottom being gathered into s band, which is hidden by the fur trimming. The top of the body is finished off by a band of sable, which continues down the front of the body and skirt to within eight inclies from the bottom. A band of fur is also placed quite at the bottom of the skirt. The under-sleeves and chemisette are of white muslin. A square fur collar might be worn with this dress, cut out exactly the shape of the dress ; for outdoor wear this would be very comfortable. DESCRIPTION OF THE BERLIN PATTERN.

The pattern given this month is for ornamenting a bracket, or window cornices, and is also suitable for a table-cover border, or to ornament a mantelpiece. It will be followed next month by the other half of the pattern, when we will engrave one of those pretty brackets so fashionable in Germany. For å bracket or table-cover border the pattern should be worked in single wool, but for a windor cornice on very coarse canvas and in double wool.

When completed, the work should be lined and I finished off with a tassel at each point,

« НазадПродовжити »