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King of Campagna, and with a troop of six hundred men, surpassed the exploits and the atrocities of his predecessors.”
But, to conclude my tale with pleasanter matter, the young cavalier Luigi was united to the fair daughter of · the Salernitan baron, and the pretty Nicoletta, instead of being a robber's wife, soon made a more fitting match with one of the pages of her mistress's husband.
Yes! I have sleptand then there came a dream
REMINISCENCES OF ANDALUSIA.
BY THE AUTHOR OF “SPAIN IN 1830.”
SEVILLE-gay Seville,—with its serenades,
And masks, and convent chimes, and castanets, And flashing eyes of Andalusian maids,
And Gothic towers, and Moorish minarets:
Whose tufted blossoms far their fragrance throw, And stately palm, that like a giant, towers
Above the dwarfish trees that cower below:
Desert sierras, where the ilex spreads
On rocky steeps; where odours, strange, yet sweet, Are wafted from the aromatic beds
Of thousand flowers that spring beneath the feet:
Winding their way adown some mountain side;
Fall sweetly, at the hour of eventide :
A group of boys, seated beneath a tree
Such as Murillo sketched--urchins at play, With ragged coats, but faces full of glee,
With bread and melon, making holiday:
Goats, milk-white, feeding ʼmid rosemary bushes,
On prickly pear, upon a craggy steep;
Or stretched beneath an olive tree, asleep:
An Andaluz, with gun upon his shoulder,
Wading, † with sturdy stride, at close of day; Or bandit, with an eye, and step yet bolder,
Starting from out a thicket in your way:
* Plaiting the Esparto rush, for sandals or baskets, is a common occupation of the goatherd.
+ Walking through the wilds of Andalusia, is wading knee deep among shrubs.
Grey-bearded friars, with idle step, and slow,
Strolling in pairs about their convent gates; Or tattered beggar, looking up, to throw
A well-aimed stone among the clustering dates : *
Singing wild snatches to her cracked guitar;
Stands listening to the song of love or war.
Bright land of sunshine,-clime of cloudless skies;
Fairest and loveliest of the lands that be How many pictures to my fancy rise,
When memory turns,-as turn it will, to thee! SKETCHES OF MODERN POETS.
* A ragged peasant seldom passes a clump of date trees without aiming a stone at some of the lowest clusters.
HIGH-Priest of the Nine! Poet, Prophet, and Sage, What deep lessons of wisdom are poured in thy page; Where the old and the young, sad and mirthful, may
find, Each reflected in sunshine, some “ mood of his mind;" Where the simple may learn with kind feelings to glow, And the wise may discover how little they know! Whence the broken in spirit may drink solace and
balm, And the tempest-tossed bosom be taught to grow calm : The rich - there are treasures that gold cannot buy; The poor — that there is but one rank in the sky! The guileless, their whiteness of spirit to keep, And the guilty, that vengeance not always will sleep! There the spell-bound Enthusiast, whose mind has
been sown With pure poesy's pearls, some soft feeling may own;