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They are three vast centres of feud and revolutionary terror :-Portugal with an unowned monarch, reigning by the bayonet and the scaffold, with half her leading men in dungeons, with her territory itself a dungeon ; and fierce retaliation and phrenzied enthusiasm hovering on her frontiers, and ready to plunge into the bosom of the land; -Spain torn by faction, and at this hour watching every band that gathers on her hills, as the signs of a tempest that may sweep the land from the Pyrenees to the ocean ;and France in the first heavings of a mighty change, that man can no more define than he can set limits to the heaving of an earthquake, or the swell and fury of a deluge. Other great objects and causes may have their share in those things. But the facts are before mankind.
The Playthings.—Miss Gould.
6Oh! mother, here's the very top
That brother used to spin ;
To call our robin in;
His bow, his cup and ball,
His feather, cap, and all !"
Mutability of earthly Things.-N. A. Review.
[From the Spanish of Don JORGE MANRIQUE.]
O LET the soul her slumbers break-
Awake to see
With many sighs :
More highly prize.
Our lives are rivers, gliding free
The silent grave :
In that dark wave;
Lie calm and still.
This world is but the rugged road
Of peace above :
From realms of love.
Our birth is but the starting place,
We reach the goal,
The weary soul.
Tell me,—the charms that lovers seek
The hues that play
Ah! where are they?
In life's first stage, These shall become a heavy weight, When Time swings wide his outward gate
To weary age.
Where are the high-born damesand where Their gay attire, and jewelled hair,
And odors sweet? Where are the gentle knights that came To kneel, and breathe love's ardent flame
Low at their feet? Where is the
of TroubadourWhere are the lute and gay tambour,
They loved of yore?
The dancers wore?
So many a duke of royal name,
And baron brave,
That might the sword of empire wield-
In the dark grave!
When thou dost show,
Unnumbered hosts, that threaten nigh,
And flag displayed
O Death, from thee,
A Scene from the Brothers.—WORDSWORTH.
The elder of two brothers, after several years' absence in foreign lands,
returns to his native village, and stops in the church-yard, and at length enters into conversation with the parish priest.
Leonard. You said his kindred all were in their graves, And that he had one brother
Priest. That is but
And Leonard, being always by his side,
Leonard. But this youth,-
Priest. One sweet May morning