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"I'll be a duke," cried a little page,

Who found in a place of no resort
A maid of the requisite virtue and age;

And he hurried off with his prize to court.
The people stared at every stage,

And, loyally loving, they helped to bring
The maid with Te Deums: God save the King!

Now, when she was come to the monarch's sight,

"What the foul fiend have we here?" he cried.
Saint Clovis ! Saint Hubert ! the woman's a fright !
"Pah! I'd rather die !" and his majesty died;
And his son reigned in his stead, as was right:
And Turpin came with the priests to sing:
"Let us bury him nobly: God save the King!"

SONG OF THE COSSAQUE.

BERANGER.

COME on, best friend of the Cossaque! my noble steed, come on!
The Northern trumpet calls to war the horsemen of the Don.
Untiring in the foray still, undaunted in assault,

Let carnage follow in thy course that scorns a laggard halt.
What though no gold be found upon thy housing and thy rein,
These by my sword shall yet be won on many a battle plain.
Then toss thy mane with scornful neigh, and fly, my gallant horse!
To trample down the pride of kings and nations in thy course!

Peace flies afar, and leaves to me no guidance but thy own:
The centenary ramparts old of Europe are o'erthrown.
Then bear me on to where the wealth of palaces and domes
Is spread in gorgeous glory round, and all the Arts have homes.
Return to quaff of rebel Seine, whose violated banks
Have twice beheld thee in her stream refresh thy gory flanks;
And toss thy mane with scornful neigh, and fly, my gallant horse!
To trample down the pride of kings and nations in thy course!

Princes, and priests, and nobles, as within some fortress wall,
By roused-up millions leaguered round, and tottering to their fall,
Invoke our Scythian mastery, and thus would crawl and cower
As serfs themselves, could they but still uphold their tyrant power.
Yes, all shall crouch when I but couch this dreaded Ukraine spear;
And Cross and Crown fall broken down before my swift career.
Then toss thy mane with scornful neigh, and fly, my gallant horse!
To trample down the pride of kings and nations in thy course!

I saw a giant Phantom stand colossal in the sky,
And, pleased, upon our bivouac fires was fixed his warrior eye:
"My reign commences once again!" 'twas thus I heard him say,
While pointing with his battle-axe to Western lands away.
King of the conquering Huns, all hail thy shadowy port and crest!
Behold! a son of Attila obeys thy stern behest.

Then toss thy mane with scornful neigh, and fly, my gallant horse!
To trample down the pride of kings and nations in thy course!

All Europe's ancient glories spread from furthest shore to shore,
And all the Knowledge which has power to be her guard no more,
Shall be destroyed amid the dust that yet shall rise and roll
Up from thy hoofs, as on we speed to our destructive goal.

Efface, efface, nor cease thy race, till Desolation draws

A veil o'er manners, records, fanes, and palaces and laws.

Then toss thy mane with scornful neigh, and fly, my gallant horse! To trample down the pride of kings and nations in thy course!

ORIENTALE.

VICTOR HUGO.

One day the Sultaun Achmet said
To Julia, the gay Granadine:
I'd forfeit all my realms, sweet maid,
Ever to keep Medina mine;
And I would gladly barter free
Medina for the love of thee.

Then be a Christian, Star of Kings!

All pleasures are beneath a ban,

And held as interdicted things,

When shared with a Mohammedan :

I really cannot hazard crime;

Sin is enough, my dear Sublime !

By all the pearls that brightly deck,
And thus more brilliantly reveal

The beauty of thy snowy neck,

I'll do it, an thou'lt let me kneel,
And take these neck-lace pearls to be,
While I do pray, my rosary!

BEAUTY.

LANARTINE.

BEAUTY! celestial secret, ray divine,

Bright emblem, say, what mystic source is thine?
Why art thou ever so beloved-ah! why
Still turns to thee the fond pursuing eye?
Why springs the loving heart to thy appeal,
As to the stone the sympathetic steel-
Clings to thy shadow with enduring ties,'
Burns in thy presence, in thy absence dies?

A first, or haply a fifth element,
Diffused beneath or in the firmament,
Thy power exists in various things that are:
It draws our steadfast gazing to a star,
To the blue vault, the ever-moving seas,
The bending rivers, and the gracious trees.

Whether, more vivid still, thou dost reveal
The impress of thy universal seal

In breathing nature, where thy presence lies
In the terrific lion's blazing eyes;

On the proud steed's tempestuous mane, and flings

A glory o'er the eagle's rushing wings,

And smoothes the shade that undulating moves
Adown the necks of thy peculiar doves ;-

Or whether in the human aspect-this
Thy own best mirror and thy masterpiece-
With thy supremest power thy fingers trace,
Chiefly on woman's fascinating face,
That delicate ray of mingled grace and pride
From which the melting eye turns half aside ;—
None know thy secret-all obey, adore,
And joy and tears are thine for evermore.
Ah! this same impulse seems, in good or ill,
A revelation of our instinct still.

Perhaps of God himself some image thou,
Beaming at times through mortal form below;
Perhaps the soul to which such form is given
Hath shaped it by its archetype in heaven;
Modelled its glory by the parent beam
Of the All-Fair, All-Good, and All-Supreme.

Wherever Beauty, graceful or superb,
Glows in the sky, a figure, or an herb,
My heart, for love and admiration born,
Turns there, as to a ray the eye will turn;
There broods and rests delighted-there bestows
Part of itself, commingling as it glows.

I often have reproached myself for these
Too vivid thonghts, too sudden sympathies ;
These instincts of a glance, these quick intents
Raised from impressions into sentiments;
And often have I said: Perhaps in heaven
Such leanings of the heart are unforgiven.
The eye, the heart will own the magic touch;
Is it a crime to love the Beautiful too much?

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THE landlady paused for a moment at the door, laid her finger upon her brow, thought for a minute or two, and then having settled her whole plan to her own satisfaction, descended to the door at which Mr. Dry of Longsoaken was making sundry inquiries regarding the personage for whose address he had in the first place applied to herself, and whom he evidently had not found out in his perambulations of the town. A part of what he said was heard by the hostess as she descended, so that she had a full clue to what was going on, and advancing towards him with a low, smart courtesy, she said—

"The dinner's quite ready, sir; and I have been thinking since you were gone, that I shall be able to-morrow morning to get you the address of the gentleman you wanted, for a man will be here with eggs who used to supply him, I know."

Mr. Dry looked up with a well-satisfied air, saying, "That is providential, Mistress Green."

"White, sir, White," said the landlady, dropping another courtesy, "my name is White, not Green-a different colour, sir, but it all comes to the same thing. Shall I call the young lady to dinner. It is in this room, sir."

"I will go myself, Mistress White," said Dry; and he was advancing towards the stairs, when the landlady, in a low and confidential whisper, added

"Poor thing, she is very wild indeed. I went up just now to see if she wanted any thing; and she is quite astray, thinking that she was here not long ago, and fancying that she knows all about the place. It's a sad thing to see a poor creature in such a state."

"Alack, alack, and so it is," rejoined Mr. Dry, "but it's God's will, Mrs. White, and so we must submit."

"Ah, sir, that's very true," answered the good hostess, "but yet one can't

help pitying the poor girl. You are sure she is not dangerous, sir ?"

"Quite sure," answered Mr. Dry: "it is only to herself. But if she were left alone to do what she wills, I would not answer for it, that you would not very soon find her in the Humber."

"Oh, she must be looked to, sirshe must be looked to," replied the landlady. "Those are sad, dangerous cases. I remember right well when Jonathan Birkett, at Burton-he was my husband's second cousin, poor, dear man-went mad and hanged himself"

But

"I will hear that story after dinner," said Dry in return, pushing past her, and opening the door of the room in which Arrah Neil was seated. the good landlady had gained her point, having fully convinced Mr. Dry that she believed the poor girl whom he had brought thither to be perfectly insane; and her manner during the meal, which followed immediately after, served to confirm the worthy gentleman in that supposition, without at all inducing Arrah herself to imagine that her new friend had any doubt of her sanity.

Though the days had gone by when as an universal custom the landlord and his guest sat down together at the same table, and if the traveller presented himself at any other hours than those of the host's own meals, he was likely to remain hungry till the master of the house chose to eat, yet in all cases he who supplied the fare and he who received it were still much more intimately mixed up at meal times than in the present day, when the duties of the hostly office are done by deputy ; and the landlord is intent upon any other cares but hospitable ones.

In the present instance, good Mrs. White remained in the room with her maid, who acted the important part of waiter; and ever and anon she meddled

busily with the dishes, commended the viands to the jaws of her guests, vaunted the excellence of the ale, strong waters, and wine, which her house afforded, and when not thus employed upon matters connected with her own immediate vocation, took part in the conversation of those who sat at table, with great freedom and satisfaction.

Towards Arrah Neil her tone was of that tender and kindly character, which might well be attributed by Mr. Dry to compassion for the mental affliction under which he had declared her to be suffering, and by the poor girl herself to interest in her fate and situation. But the good landlady was watching eagerly the whole conduct of her male guest, and endeavouring with all the skill which is afforded by long dealings with many of our fellow-creatures, to extract some information from all she saw regarding his intentions and objects. She perceived that the worthy man of Longsoaken was as tender upon her whom he called his ward as was consistent with his sanctified exterior, that he often whispered a word to her with a smile which contorted his harsh and wizened features into any thing but a pleasant expression, and that he made a point of helping her himself to every thing which he thought dainty; and, from these and various other signs and indications, Mrs. White was led to ask herself, "Does the old hypocrite seek her for a wife or a paramour?" and she internally added, "I'll spoil the game for him, that I will."

But notwithstanding her internal resolutions, the good landlady remained perfectly civil and attentive to Mr. Dry, and guided by tokens, which were not to be mistaken by one of her experience, as to his fondness for certain creature comforts of existence, she at length produced some clear and brilliant liquid, the produce of the Dutch still, in a large flat-sided black bottle, and persuaded him to drink what she called a small glass thereof, though, to say the truth, the measure was very capacious. When he had drank it, he set down the glass again; and looking up in Mrs. White's face, observed

"It is very good indeed, madam, and may be permitted for the support of our poor, weak bodies after a long ride in such bleak and disconsolate weather."

"Take another glass, sir," said the

hostess, who stood at the end of the table with the bottle still in her hand.

"On no account-on no account, Mistress White," replied her guest; "we may use such things discreetly, but by no means go into excess. I would not for the world-don't talk of it."

There are two ways however of understanding that same injunction, "don't talk of it," which those who have been accustomed to read the book of human nature find no great difficulty in applying properly, and in this instance, as in many others, Mrs. White saw that it meant "don't talk of it, but do it without talking," and therefore replying, "Oh, sir, it's very weak: it's so old, 'tis scarcely stronger than water,” she poured the glass full as it stood at Mr. Dry's elbow, while he turned round to say something to Arrah Neil on his other side.

The worthy gentleman took not the slightest notice of this proceeding; but looking up in Mrs. White's face, he

said

"And so you think, ma'am, that you will be able to get me Master Hugh O'Donnell's right address by to-morrow morning?"

"I am certain of it," replied the landlady, who thought there was no great harm in a little confidence whatever might be the result.

Arrah Neil looked down in silent thought, and then raised her large, bright eyes with an inquiring look in the landlady's face; while Mr. Dry, as if in a fit of absentness, took up the glass, and sipped nearly one half of the contents before he recollected what he was about. He then, however, set it down suddenly, and inquired

"Pray can you tell me, if Mr. Twigg the drysalter is now in Hull? A Godfearing and saintly man, Mrs. White, who used to hold forth to the edification of a flock that used to assemble at the tabernacle in Backwater-alley."

"Oh dear, yes, sir; he is in Hull," answered Mrs. White. "I saw the good gentleman only yesterday."

"Then I will go and see him presently," answered Mr. Dry. "Humble-minded folks may always profit much of godly conversation; and to do him but justice, he is always ready to use his spiritual gifts for the benefit of others." Thus speaking, Mr. Dry, after contemplating the glass for a

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