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my vows were to be ratified, and my happiness placed beyond the power of fortune and the elements. · O vain and foolish mortals! not the fairy castles of an Italian summer heaven, are more false and fugitive than your baseless projects, and short-sighted hopes !

“I flew to the house of the Consul, where, when a clergyman can be procured, English service is pera formed, -and learned with transport, that after a considerable interregnum, there was now an officiating minister, in the person of a beneficed clergyman, travelling for his health, and a temporary resident in Genoa. I acceded (although with the stipulation of absolute privacy), to the Consul's polite request that I would, as is customary, use the sanction of his roof for the ceremony. The next day but one was named, and the Dean of — duly requested to officiate.

“ People talk of presentiments ! but to me, elation of mind will ever be the most fearful of presages. I should shudder even yet to see any one so blindly, madly happy, as I was when I had made all these arrangements, and extorted Louisa's sweet, yet reluctant acquiescence in them.

“ Those who deal in omens, might have drawn auguries in favour of their belief, from one slight circumstance, which disturbed me. On joining, about ten minutes before the time fixed for the ceremony, the assembled family in the saloon of our inn,-a close, illaired apartment,- I found Louisa, who was too superior to all affectation to feign petty inconvenience, evidently suffering from more than mental agitation, indeed, just recovering from a fainting fit. Seeing me alarmed, she smiled with her usual sweetness, and assured me her illness had proceeded from a very trifling cause, and was merely occasioned by the overpowering scent of the huge bouquet of orange flowers which the dear children had provided, as indispensable at all continental marriages. -We made light of this trifle ; but 'trifles light as air,' sink into the mind with leaden pressure, when misfortune drives them home!

“ The carriage came to the door,—I put in Louisa, — we both trembled; hers was the chill, nervous anticipation of impending evil,— mine, the feverish tremor of hope deferred. My beloved was enveloped in one of the graceful mezzaros of the Genoese ladies, the texture of which, although the finest to be procured, was sufficiently thick to prevent her distinguishing objects, had she even been disposed to look around her. Her thoughts were otherwise occupied at this solemn moment;-after silent greetings from the Consul's family, we ranged ourselves before the handsome, imposing-looking dignitary, whose frigid, aristocratic exterior, inspired me with no great prepossession in his favour. I half regretted my impatience, and grieved that it had defrauded my own venerable white-haired tutor in England, of his sacred office, —but it was too late! The ceremony began,—it ended ! - Ere a sentence was well accomplished, Louisa lay

motionless, and to all appearance, dead, in my arms. The Dean of was the faithless lover, whose perfidy had produced such overwhelming effects upon her mind. That mind was a second time his victim! and I am for life, a sad, solitary Bachelor!”


There is in Rydal's vale a river sweet, Clear too as Cydnus, called the wild Brathay, That warbling urges on his crystal way, Till he his shining bride the Rothay meet, Winding along her amorous mate to greet. United, thence through flowery meads they stray; Nor storm, nor heat, nor time their loves can sever, Till hushed in Windermere they sleep for ever. Thus have I imaged oft, in union blest, Gliding from youth to age, the soul-knit pair, Emulous alone each other's worth to share, Sinking at last in that eternal rest, Where the pure spirit dwells in kindred love, The haven Contemplation sees above!


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Far behind they had left the land,

The sea spread far before,
And they were sailing to such a strand

None ever had sought of yore;-
Their leader was not of high degree,
But one whose mind was a mystery.


He did not come from a hermitage,

Yet he prayed with book and bead;

He read the stars like an eastern sage,

And fought in the hour of need ;-
Yet the dreams of his spirit were not of war,
But of islands hid in the main afar.

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Of fair green isles, with treasures vast

Of spicery and of gold,
Of seas, where anchor was never cast,

And hills, of height untold ;-
It were a glorious thing to view,
If such bright dreams could now be true!

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Fearful of rock and fearful of shoal,

Few were the mates he won ;
But he led them along in strength of soul,

Along towards the setting sun,
Over the deep, where the waves are calm,
And ever the wind is wandering balm.


Over the deep, and over the deep,

By the same soft wind caressed, The sky above in a spotless sleep,

Around them the waters' breast, Seven hundred leagues—but the land they sought Was viewless still, as a dream or thought.

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