Woe, to the living thing, whose path Speed thee!-less fearful of thy eye, Through the greenwood, the hunter train Timely, indeed, the aid they bring; Smarting with pain, and red with gore, He bounds, and foams ;-with pain, at last, In one loud roar he spends his breath, Once struggling, starts--and sinks in death. W. M. CoWELL. CHIVALRY AND THE PASTORAL. Che por con leggiadria la lancia in resta. Ariosto. WHY lament that the days of Old Romance When a Spright, a Knight, and his trusty lance, Rude were the times when they swore by the Rood, He must ever have been on the rack, I ween, On the rack, his lance and targe should have been The lance had its rest when the Knight had none, For he press'd no bed when the fight was done, And the shepherd's life was just as tame, - He play'd his pipe beside his flame, While the lambs, near the old ewes play'd! His name, on the bark of a beech he'd leave,But that might a moral teach, For a lover,-alas! will oft deceive, As the bark will leave the beach! Or Pilgrim, kneeling by holy mount, For the only beads I desire to count, To the host of Knights, and the Painim War,' Our champion's a jollier host by far, And 'twould pain him to hear of a cross! E. L. I. DAFT ELLEN. Oh sorrowful conclusion to our hopes, Duke of Mercia. THE curious traveller who intends visiting the Highfands should approach those desolate regions from the neighbourhood of the Scottish metropolis. The scenery is peculiarly grand, and it loses none of its interest by the romantic associations which are connected with it; every spot has its history of wild tumult and hostile disorder; and, now and then, the peasant, if interrogated, will point out places identified with incidents of a more domestic but not less curious nature. Within the shadow of the first range of the hills which indicate the Highlands a secluded valley is generally shown to strangers. The access to it is somewhat difficult; but the beauty of the place amply repays for the inconvenience which the visiter has to encounter before he enters it. A solemn silence reigns throughout the dell, and the shadow of the neighbouring mountain serves to increase that gloom inseparable from a spot where the silence of nature is seldom disturbed by the bustle and noise of living beings. A stream runs through this retired spot, and just where the trees have attained the greatest density of foliage, the water has spread itself into a miniature lake which, in varying, adds to the beauty of the scene. It is exactly such a spot as the ancient Germans would have appropriated to their gods: the vista, formed by the opening_occasioned by the lake and rivulet, casts a kind of Gothic holiness about the place; and those who are unacquainted with the workings of human passion would naturally suppose that, of all places on earth, this would be the last where a deed of darkness could be perpetrated. In the latter part of the last century, a solitary female was observed, by the neighbouring rustics, to pay a daily visit to this sequestered spot. The place had recently acquired a superstitious notoriety: a year or two before, in the decline of a summer's evening, a E |