LAURA BELL.

Он Laura Bell, sweet Laura Bell!
The days have flown too fast,
Since through the woodland and the dell,
Two happy souls, we passed;
But memory lays her paint so well
The colors long will last.

A million times I've thought of thee,
Sweet Laura, it is true;

A million times you've thought of me,
And twice the number too;

For loved we young and tenderly,
And drank love's earliest dew.

With you no ill an ill had seemed,
Life could have had no strife,

But, Laura, I have never dreamed
Of making you a wife;

For heaven so often round you beamed,
I could not, for my life.

Like some bright being flown away
From your own native skies,
You seemed awhile on earth to stay,
Feasting your angel eyes,

Hiding your wings, till some glad day You'd float to Paradise.

But, Laura, we were forced to part, Ere love's young dream was ended, And all the ties that bound my heart, Like cords of sand were rended. Oh Laura! sad the tears that start When age and youth are blended.

I'm old and hoary-headed now,

And thou hast slumbered here, Where other hands have laid thee low, Full many a waning year,

And oft thy children come to throw
Their flowers upon thy bier.

Oh Laura Bell! I loved thee well,
And time has flown too fast,
Since like the brooklet in the dell,
Our loves in silence passed;
And here I come, sweet Laura Bell,
To find thee dead at last!

THE FOREST BRIDE.

Mine eyes

Were not in fault, for she was beautiful;

Mine ears that heard her converse; nor mine heart,
That thought her like her seeming; it had been vicious
To have mistrusted her.

Shakspeare.

ONE gloomy autumn afternoon, just before sunset, the inhabitants of a quiet village in the State of Maine, noted a vehicle passing along through the main street, that evidently was the conveyance of some traveler. A large trunk was strapped on behind, while a smaller one was made fast in front. The horse attached, might have once been black or white; but there had of late been heavy rains, frequent pools of water were still standing, and the highways were in a most deplorable condition. From these

causes, the animal had received an undue covering of mother earth, so that with the exception of his back, and his white face, not the slightest evidence of his original color could be detected. He moved on at his own pace, tired with the distance he had traveled, as well as with the superfluous weight of soil that had accumulated upon him.

As the chaise rolled on by the dwellings of the villagers, they were to be seen at almost every window, looking through half-opened blinds, and from underneath slightly lifted curtains, while the minor population did not hesitate to form groups on the threshold of every door. Yet nothing could they see, beyond the wayworn horse, the mud-covered chaise, and perchance within, the dark figure of a human being, muffled in a cloak, with his head leaning over upon his shoulder. The reins hung negligently from his hands, and from the aforementioned gait of the steed, it might be surmised that the whip had long since been released from its office.

A hundred eyes followed the carriage to the extremity of the street, expecting as matter of course, to see it stop at the village tavern, that hung out its unpretending Entertainment for man and beast.' All were disappointed however, that the horse pursued the even tenor of his way, without appearing to notice the retreat that had been provided for him, and of which he stood so much in need. The watch-dog rose from his slumbers upon the door-step, pricked up his ears, uttered a short growl, and then placed his head between his paws again, as tranquilly as before.

Whether this unceremonious passage through the village was intentional on the part of the traveler, or whether, at the time, he was rumi

nating among the fragrant groves and soothing arbors of the land of Nod, history doth not inform us. We only know that thus he entered, and thus made his exit.

Night soon set in, and darkness hung its broad curtain over mountain, forest, and field. Yet the jaded nag moved on, over the hill-tops and through the valleys, until he entered a dense forest, where the road led through a swamp, with a path just wide enough for one vehicle to pass with safety. Suddenly the animal came to a stand.

'Who's there?' shouted a rough voice in advance of the chaise.

'A friend!' answered the traveler, rousing himself from his drowsiness.

Well, friend or foe, there's one too many on us to meet in this here bog-hole,' said the other. 'Let me turn out while you pass,' returned the man in the chaise.

"No! no! mister. I calkilate you'd best keep quiet, or may be you'll turn out so you won't turn in agin. I knows the place best, and I'll keep one side while you move on ahead.'

And the invisible began to rouse his team away, shouting Hush-back, brin'le! Gee off buck! Back! back! ye lubbers!-whoa!' until he had cleared the way, and then he cried out, 'Drive on! cap'n !'