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Told to the young and bright-haired visitant
Of Carmel's sacred mount!-Then, in a flow
Of calmer converse, he beguiled us on
Through many a maze of garden and of porch,
Through many a system, where the scattered light
Of heavenly truth lay, like a broken beam
From the pure sun, which, though refracted all
Into a thousand hues, is sunshine still,2

And bright through every change !- he spoke of Him,
The lone Eternal One, who dwells above,

And of the soul's untraceable descent

From that high fount of spirit, through the grades

Of intellectual being, till it mix

With atoms vague, corruptible, and dark;

Nor even then, though sunk in earthly dross,
Corrupted all, nor its ethereal touch

Quite lost, but tasting of the fountain still!
As some bright river, which has rolled along
Through meads of flowery light and mines of gold,
When poured at length into the dusky deep,
Disdains to mingle with its briny taint,
But keeps awhile the pure and golden tinge,
The balmy freshness of the fields it left !3

And here the old man ceased-a winged train
Of nymphs and genii led him from our eyes,
The fair illusion fled! and, as I waked,

I knew my visionary soul had been
Among that people of aerial dreams
Who live upon the burning galaxy!

ΤΟ

THE world had just begun to steal
Each hope that led me lightly on,

I felt not as I used to feel,

And life grew dark and love was gone!

No eye to mingle sorrow's tear,

No lip to mingle pleasure's breath,
No tongue to call me kind and dear-
'Twas gloomy, and I wished for death!

1 Pythagoras is represented in Jamblichus as descending with great solemnity from Mount Carmel, for which reason the Carmelites have elaimed him as one of their fraternity. This Mochus or Moschus, with the descendants of whom Pythagoras conversed in Phoenicia,and from whom he derived the doctrines of atomic philosophy, is supposed by some to be the same with Moses.

2 Lactantius asserts that all the truths of Christianity may be found dispersed through the ancient philosophical sects, and that any one

who would collect these scattered fragments of orthodoxy might form a code in no respect differing from that of the Christian. 'Si extitisset aliquis, qui veritatem sparsam per singulos per sectasque diffusam colligeret in unum, ac redigeret in corpus, is profecto non dissentiret a nobis.'-Inst. lib. vi. c. 7.

3 This fine Platonic image I have taken from a passage in Father Bouchet's letter upon the Metempsychosis, inserted in Picart's Cérém. Relig. tom. iv.

But when I saw that gentle eye,

Oh! something seemed to tell me then That I was yet too young to die,

And hope and bliss might bloom again?

With every beamy smile that crossed
Your kindling cheek, you lighted home
Some feeling which my heart had lost,

And Peace, which long had learned to roam!

"Twas then indeed so sweet to live,

Hope looked so new, and love so kind, That, though I weep, I still forgive

The ruin which they've left behind!

I could have loved you-oh, so well;-
The dream that wishing boyhood knows,
Is but a bright beguiling spell,

Which only lives while passion glows:

But, when this early flush declines,

When the heart's vivid morning fleets, You know not then how close it twines Round the first kindred soul it meets !

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Last night, 'tis in vain to deny it,

Your soul took a fancy to roam;

For I heard her, on tiptoe so quiet,

Come ask, whether mine was at home.

And mine let her in with delight,

And they talked and they kissed the time through;

For when souls come together at night,

There is no knowing what they mayn't do!

And your little soul, Heaven bless her!
Had much to complain and to say,

Of how sadly you wrong and oppress her,
By keeping her prisoned all day.

'If I happen,' said she, but to steal For a peep now and then to her eye, Or, to quiet the fever I feel,

Just venture abroad on a sigh;

'In an instant, she frightens me ir,

With some phantom of prudence or terror, For fear I should stray into sin,

Or, what is still worse, into error !

'So, instead of displaying my graces,
Thro' look, and thro' words, and thro' mien,
I am shut up in corners and places,
Where truly I blush to be seen!'

Upon hearing this piteous confession,
My soul, looking tenderly at her,
Declared, as for grace and discretion

He did not know much of the matter;

'But, to morrow, sweet spirit!' he said,
'Be at home after midnight, and then
I will come when your lady's in bed,
And we'll talk o'er the subject again.’
So she whispered a word in his ear,
I suppose to her door to direct him,
And-just after midnight, my dear,
Your polite little soul may expect him.

TO MRS.

To see thee every day that came,
And find thee every day the same,
In pleasure's smile or sorrow's tear
The same benign consoling dear!
To meet thee early, leave thee late,
Has been so long my bliss, my fate,
That life, without this cheering ray,
Which came like sunshine every day,
And all my pain, my sorrow chased,
Is now a lone and loveless waste.-
Where are the chords she used to touch?
Where are the songs she loved so much?
The songs are hushed, the chords are still,
And so, perhaps, will every thrill
Of friendship soon be lulled to rest,
Which late I waked in Anna's breast!
Yet no--the simple notes I played,
On memory's tablet soon may fade;
The songs which Anna loved to hear
May all be lost on Anna's ear;

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But friendship's sweet and fairy strain
Shall ever in her heart remain ;
Nor memory lose nor time impair
The sympathies which tremble there!

A CANADIAN BOAT-SONG.

WRITTEN ON THE RIVER ST. LAWRENCE.1
Et remigem cantus hortatur.-Quintilian.
FAINTLY as tolls the evening chime,
Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time.
Soon as the woods on shore look dim,
We'll sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn.2
Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast,
The Rapids are near, and the daylight's past!

Why should we yet our sail unfurl?
There is not a breath the blue wave to curl !
But when the wind blows off the shore,
Oh! sweetly we'll rest our weary oar.
Blow, breezes, blow, the stream runs fast,
The Rapids are near, and the daylight's past!

Utawas' tide! this trembling moon
Shall see us float over thy surges soon.
Saint of this green Isle ! hear our prayers,
Oh! grant us cool heavens and favouring airs.
Blow, breezes, blow, the stream runs fast,

The Rapids are near, and the daylight's past!

men sung to us very frequently. The wind common and trifling; but I remember when we was so unfavourable that they were obliged to have entered, at sunset, upon one of those beau1 I wrote these words to an air which our boat- that are past, the melody may perhaps be thought cending the river from Kingston to Montreal, grandly and unexpectedly opens, I have heard row all the way, and we were five days in des- tiful lakes, into which the St. Lawrence so esposed to an intense sun during the day, and at this simple air with a pleasure which the finest any miserabie hut upon the banks that would given me; and now there is not a note of it night forced to take shelter from the dews in compositions of the first masters have never

receive us.

our oars in the St. Lawrence, the flight of our

supposed to be sung by

St. Lawrence repays all these difficulties. But the magnificent scenery of the which does not recall to my memory the dip of Our voyageurs had good voices, and sung pcr- boat down the Rapids, and all those new and the air, to which I adapted these stanzas, during the whole of this very interesting voyage. fectly in tune together. The original words of fanciful impressions to which my heart was alive appeared to be a long incoherent story, of which I could understand but little, from the barbarous those voyageurs who go to the Grande Portage pronunciation of the Canadians. It begins: Dans mon chemin j'ai rencontré Deax cavaliers très-bien montés;

And the refrain to every verse was:
A l'ombre d'un bois je m'en vais jouer,
A l'ombre d'un bois je m'en vais danser.

The above stanzas are

by the Utawas River. For an account of this wonderful undertaking, see Sir Alexander Mackenzie's General History of the Fur Trade, prefixed to his Journal.

At the Rapid of St. Ann they are obliged to take out part, if not the whole, of their lading. It is from this spot the Canadians consider they take their departure, as it possesses the last

Jished it. Without that charm which association tutelar saint of voyagers.'-Mackenzie's General I ventured to harmonize this air, and have pub- church on the island, which is dedicated to the gives to every little memorial of scenes or feelings History of the Fur Trade.

EPISTLE IX.

TO THE LADY CHARLOTTE RAWDON.

FROM THE BANKS OF THE ST. LAWRENCE.

Nor many months have now been dreamed away
Since yonder sun (beneath whose evening ray
We rest our boat among these Indian isles)
Saw me, where mazy Trent serenely smiles
Through many an oak, as sacred as the groves
Beneath whose shade the pious Persian roves,
And hears the soul of father or of chief,
Or loved mistress, sigh in every leaf !!
There listening, Lady! while thy lip hath sung
My own unpolished lays, how proud I've hung
On every mellowed number! proud to feel
That notes like mine should have the fate to steal,
As o'er thy hallowing lip they sighed along,
Such breath of passion and such soul of song.
Oh! I have wondered, like the peasant boy
Who sings at eve his Sabbath strains of joy,
And when he hears the rude, luxuriant note
Back to his ear on softening echoes float,
Believes it still some answering spirit's tone,
And thinks it all too sweet to be his own!
I dreamed not then that, ere the rolling year
Had filled its circle, should wander here
In musing awe; should tread this wondrous world,
See all its store of inland waters hurled
In one vast volume down Niagara's steep,2
Or calm behold them, in transparent sleep,
Where the blue hills of old Toronto shed
Their evening shadows o'er Ontario's bed!-
Should trace the grand Cadaraqui, and glide
Down the white Rapids of his lordly tide
Through massy woods, through islets flowering fair,
Through shades of bloom, where the first sinful pair
For cousolation might have weeping trod,
When banished from the garden of their God!
Oh, Lady! these are miracles which man,
Caged in the bounds of Europe's pigmy plan,

1 Avendo essi per costume di avere in veneratione gli alberi grandi ed antichi, quasi che siano spesso ricettaccoli di anime beate.'-Pietro della Valle, Part. Second. Lettera 16 da i giardini di Sciraz.

2 When I arrived at Chippewa, within three miles of the Falls, it was too late to think of visiting them that evening, and I lay awake all night with the sound of the cataract in my ears. The day following I consider as a kind of era in my life, and the first glimpse which I caught of those wonderful Falls gave me a feeling which nothing in this world can ever excite again.

To Colonel Brock, of the 49th, who commanded at the Fort, I am particularly indebted for his kindness to me during the fortnight I remained at Niagara. Among many pleasant days which I passed with him and his brother officers, that of our visit to the Tuscarora Indians was not the least interesting. They received us in all their ancient costume: the young men exhibited for our amusement, in the race, the bat-game, etc.; while the old and the women sat in groups under the surrounding trees, and the picture altogether was as beautiful as it was new to me.

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