THE GREEK MOTHER. BY HENRY G. BELL. I. "NAY, shrink not, girl! look out! look out! It is thy father's sword! And well know they-that Moslem rout— The temper of its lord! He fights for all he loves on earth, And Heaven his shield will be, He fights for home and household hearth, For Greece and liberty! II. "See! see! wherever sweeps his hand What Turkish spoiler shall withstand The fearful combat's doubtful close, U III. "I'd rather be thy father, child, O! never dies unshriven !" IV. "God help us! if our father falls," Irene whispered low; "Ruin will light upon our walls, And o'er them grass will grow Weak as I am, I would not shrink From what my fate may be, ! But, Mother! I grow mad to think What will become of thee! VI. Then out the young Alexis spoke, "I would this arm could deal one stroke, That I, in pride and joy, Might stand beside my father now, And slay a Moslem foe, Then see him turn with smiling brow To thank me for the blow!" VII. "Hush, boy! he is hemmed in beset! — Thy father fights alone; A moment-but a moment yet, And then thou may'st have none!" One moment stood those gazers fixt As statues in a dream, One breathless moment-and the next Broke forth a widow's scream! VIII. "Dead! dead! I saw the gushing gore I saw him reel and fall! And now they trample o'er and o'er The mightiest of them all! Dead! dead! and what are children now, And who or what am I? Let the red tide of slaughter flow We will wait here to die!" THE SEXAGENARIAN'S STORY; OR, The Fair Incognita of Munich. Ir was my fate last winter to take up my residence with my family in one of the smaller cities of Italy, which, after the dissolution of Napoleon's kingdom, acquired the dignity of becoming the metropolis of what is called, by courtesy, an independent state, governed by its own sovereign. This city, which I shall not name, possessed the singular advantage of uniting within itself most of the desagremens of an extensive capital with those of the smallest country village, having all the pretensions of the former joined to the meannesses and inconveniences of the latter. The inhabitants of the place were so anti-social among themselves, that man as carefully avoided his fellowbiped, as he would have done a tiger in the jungles of Hindostan; and, whether it was the fault of the government, or the natural disposition of the people, an air of mystery pervaded every countenance, and they all seemed afraid of one another. In such a state of society, to meet with a real friend where you scarcely expected to find an acquaintance, was a blessing to be particularly appreciated; the more so as an English family does not easily acquire the faculty of adapting itself to Italian manners, and if one is neither a cavalier servente, nor an admirer of cafés and theatres, time will very often appear slow in passing away. Like the Frenchman who would not marry his mistress, because then he should not know where to spend his evenings, the Italian must have some place of out-of-door resort: he cannot stay at home; and that is the reason why the theatres in Italy are so constantly well filled, to hear the same opera every night for a whole season. For myself I always disliked crowded assemblies, heated rooms, and late hours, and greatly preferred that social interchange of thoughts and opinions which distinguish an English fireside. Happily for me, my friend, whom I shall designate by the name of the Sexagenarian, entertained similar sentiments; and we gradually formed, with other associates, a little conversazione of our own, round a blazing wood fire every evening, about the time that the elégantes of the town flocked to the theatres and cafés. We had most of us been great travellers, and were none of us unacquainted with the vicissitudes of life; so that our stories generally possessed the interest of real observation. My friend, the Sexagenarian, who had arrived at a good old age without having suffered any of its infirmities, except an attack of the gout now and then, was |