A

When each returning pledge hath told my child.
That Conrad's tomb is on the desert piled;
And when the dream of troubled fancy sees
Its lonely rank grass waving in the breeze;
Who then will sooth thy grief, when mine is o'er?
Who will protect thee, helpless Ellenore?
Shall secret scenes thy filial sorrows hide,
Scorn'd by the world, to factious guilt allied?
Ah! no; methinks the generous and the good
Will woo thee from the shades of solitude!
O'er friendless grief compassion shall awake,
And smile on innocence, for Mercy's sake!”

Inspiring thought of rapture yet to be,
The tears of Love were hopeless, but for thee!
If in that frame no deathless spirit dwell,
If that faint murmur be the last farewell,
If Fate unite the faithful but to part,
Why is their memory sacred to the heart?
Why does the brother of my childhood seem
Restored a while in every pleasing dream?
Why do I joy the lonely spot to view

By artless friendship bless'd when life was new?

Eternal HOPE! when yonder spheres sublime Peal'd their first notes to sound the march of Time, Thy joyous youth began-but not to fade.When all the sister planets have decay'd; When wrapt in fire the realms of ether glow, And Heaven's last thunder shakes the world below; Thou, undismay'd, shalt o'er the ruins smile, And light thy torch at Nature's funeral pile.md

THEODRIC:

A DOMESTIC TALE.

'Twas sunset, and the Ranz des Vaches was sung,
And lights were o'er the Helvetian mountains flung,
That gave the glacier tops their richest glow,*
And tinged the lakes like molten gold below.
Warmth flush'd the wonted regions of the storm,
Where, Phoenix-like, you saw the eagle's form,
That high in heaven's vermilion wheel'd and soar'd.
Woods nearer frown'd, and cataracts dash'd and
roar'd,

From heights browsed by the bounding bouquetin ;†
Herds tinkling roam'd the long-drawn vales between,
And hamlets glitter'd white, and gardens flourish'd

green.

*See Appendix, Note D.

Laborde, in his "Tableau de la Suisse," gives a curious account of this animal, the wild sharp cry and elastic movements of which must heighten the picturesque appearance of its haunts." Nature," says Laborde," has destined it to mountains covered with snow if it is not exposed to keen cold, it becomes blind. Its agility in leaping much surpasses that of the chamois, and would appear incredible to those who have not seen it. There is not a mountain so high or steep to which it will not trust itself, provided it has room to place its feet; it can scramble along the highest wall, if its surface be rugged.”

One corps had ever made a valiant stand,—
The corps in which he served,-THEODRIC's band.
His fame, forgotten chief, is now gone by,
Eclipsed by brighter orbs in glory's sky;

Yet once it shone, and veterans, when they show
Our fields of battle twenty years ago,

Will tell you feats his small brigade perform'd,
In charges nobly faced and trenches storm'd.
Time was, when songs were chanted to his fame,
And soldiers loved the march that bore his name:
The zeal of martial hearts was at his call,
And that Helvetian, UDOLPH's, most of all.
'Twas touching, when the storm of war blew wild,
To see a blooming boy,—almost a child,—
Spur fearless at his leader's words and signs,
Brave death in reconnoitring hostile lines,

And speed each task, and tell each message clear, In scenes where war-train'd men were stunn'd with fear.

THEODRIC praised him, and they wept for joy In yonder house,—when letters from the boy Thank'd Heaven for life, and more, to use his phrase, Than twenty lives-his own Commander's praise. Then follow'd glowing pages, blazoning forth The fancied image of his Leader's worth, With such hyperbolés of youthful style As made his parents dry their tears and smile: But differently far his words impress'd A wondering sister's well-believing breast ;— She caught the illusion, bless'd THEODRIC's name, And wildly magnified his worth and fame ;

Rejoicing life's reality contain'd

One, heretofore, her fancy had but feign'd,

Whose love could make her proud!—and time and

chance

To passion raised that day-dream of Romance.

Once, when with hasty charge of horse and man Our arrière-guard had check'd the Gallic van, THEODRIC, Visiting the outposts, found

His UDOLPH Wounded, weltering on the ground: Sore crush'd,-half-swooning, half-upraised he lay, And bent his brow, fair boy! and grasp'd the clay.

!*

His fate moved ev'n the common soldier's ruth-
THEODRIC SUCcour'd him; nor left the youth
To vulgar hands, but brought him to his tent,
And lent what aid a brother would have lent.

Meanwhile, to save his kindred half the smart The war-gazette's dread blood-roll might impart, He wrote the event to them; and soon could tell Of pains assuaged and symptoms auguring well; And last of all, prognosticating cure,

Enclosed the leech's vouching signature.

Their answers, on whose pages you might note That tears had fallen, whilst trembling fingers wrote,

Gave boundless thanks for benefits conferr'd,
Of which the boy, in secret, sent them word,
Whose memory Time, they said, would never blot ;
But which the giver had himself forgot.

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