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Thy hand the sacred grass * is beåring-
Thy head the bridal veil is wearing;
And every jewel on thy breast,"
And every wreath upon thy, vest,
Glows in that sunset-light afar,
Each flower a gem-each gem a star.

The Gooroof and the wild Fakeer, 1 Pilgrim and Parsee,ộ crowd thy bier ; And there the Brahmin, nobler far, With flowing robe and white zennaar, ll Is waiting with the sacred fire,– Lillah the phoenix of the pyre! Each precious gum and odorous bough Have grove and forest yielded now, To rear a costlier shrine for thee Than blessed the bird of Araby.

Haste, then, with glittering fingers dress The couch thy faithful limbs must press,

* The Cusha grass is esteemed sacred : the hands of the bride and bridegroom are bound together with it when they are married; and the widow generally carries some of it in her hand when she walks to the funeral pile.

+ A spiritual teacher. # A religious mendicant. ô The Parsees are descendants of the Persian fire-worshippers. || The' sacred thread, composed of twisted cotton, worn by the Brahmins over the left shoulder.

And scatter, with a tearless eye,
Thy flowers upon each passer by ;
While shouts of triumph to thy fame.
Shall mingle with the mounting flame
That bears thee, as a chariot bright,
To Vishnoo's thousand halls of light :-
Haste, Lillah, haste, the rites are done,
Thy last bright thread of life is spun.

M. J. J.



FORGIVE thy foes ;-nor that alone, · Their evil deeds with good repay, Fill those with joy who leave thee none,

And kiss the hand upraised to slay.

So does the fragrant Sandal bow

In meek forgiveness to its doom; And o'er the axe, at every blow,

Sheds in abundance rich perfume.

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.. Written a short time previous to his death.

LADY, look not thus mildly soft on me
It melts deep memory into fruitless tears ;
Blue glance, and glow of rose, but ill agree
With tyrant pain's anticipated years.
No: gloomier themes befit my waning hour:
The ocean-wreck--the ruin's crumbling wall-
The blasted heath-the blighted valley flower,
With not one tear of dew to weep its fall;—
Scathed by the arm of heaven, the desert pine-
The brook's white channel bare, without a wave;
These suit the fallen wretch-these then be mine,
Announcers of no deprecated grave.
Yet might one wild devotion-sole but strong-
ludulgence from the good, the lovely prove,
This breast would breathe, in unforbidden song,
Its latest weakness-lady is it love ?
Yes, let thy love's pure light still smile for me,
Like silent moonlight 'round a leafless tree.

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- The incidents of the following tale are not merely founded on fact, they are facts themselves, which occurred at no very distant period in my own family. The marriage of the parties, their sudden"and mys.. terious separation, and their total alienation from each other until the last period of their mortal existence, are all facts. I cannot vouch for the truth of the supernatural solution given to all these mysteries; but I must still consider the story as a fine specimen of Gothic horrors, and can never forget the impression it made on me when I heard it related for the first time among many other thrilling traditions of the same description. to.

The tranquillity of the Catholics of Ireland during the disturbed periods of 1715 and 1745, was most commendable, and somewhat extraordinary; to enter

into an analysis of their probable motives, is not at all the object of the writer of this tale, as it is pleasanter to state the fact to their honour, than at this distance of time to assign dubious and unsatisfactory reasons for it. Many of them, however, showed a kind of sécret disgust at the existing state of affairs, by quitting their family residences, and wandering about like persons who were uncertain of their homes, or possibly expecting better from some near and fortupate contingency.

Among the rest was a Jacobite Baronet, who, sick of his uncongenial situation in a Whig neighbourhood, in the north-where he heard of nothing but the heroic defence of Londonderry; the barbarities of the French generals; and the resistless exhortations of the godly Mr. Walker, a Presbyterian clergyman, to whom the citizens gave the title of “ Evangelist;", quitted his paternal residence, and about the year 1720 hired the Castle of Leixlip for three years, (it was then the property of the Conollys, who let it to triennial tenants); and removed thither with his family, which consisted of three daughters--their mother having long been dead.

The Castle of Leixlip, at that period, possessed a character of romantic beauty and feudal grandeur, such as few buildings in Ireland can claim, and which is now, alaş, totally effaced by the destruction of its noble woods ; on the destroyers of which the writer

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