She spread her mantle o'er his breast;
She bathed his lips with dew;
And on his cheek such kisses press'd,
As hope and joy ne'er knew.

Oh! lovely are ye, Love and Faith,
Enduring to the last!

She had her meed, one smile in death,
And his worn spirit pass'd.

While even as o'er a martyr's grave,

She knelt on that sad spot;

And, weeping, bless'd the God who gave
Her strength to forsake it not!

The Uncle.—A Mystery.

I HAD an uncle once-a man
Of threescore years and three;
And when my reason's dawn began,
He'd take me on his knee;
And often talk, whole winter-nights,
Things that seem'd strange to me.

He was a man of gloomy mood,
And few his converse sought;

But, it was said, in solitude

His conscience with him wrought; And there, before his mental eye, Some hideous vision brought.

Mrs. Hemans.

There was a curtain over it,-
'Twas in a darken'd place,
And few or none had ever look'd
Upon my mother's face,

Or seen her pale expressive smile
Of melancholy grace.

One night I do remember well,
The wind was howling high,
And through the ancient corridors
It sounded drearily-

I sat and read in that old hall;
My uncle sat close by.

I read-but little understood
The words upon the book;
For with a sidelong glance I mark'd
My uncle's fearful look,

And saw how all his quivering frame
In strong convulsions shook.

A silent terror o'er me stole,
A strange unusual dread;

His lips were white as bone--his eyes
Sunk far down in his head;

He gazed on me, but 'twas the gaze
Of the unconscious dead.

Then suddenly he turn'd him round,
And drew aside the veil

That hung before my mother's face;-
Perchance my eyes might fail,
But ne'er before that face to me
Had seem'd so ghastly pale.

"Come hither, boy!" my uncle said,--I started at the sound;

'Twas choked and stifled in his throat, And hardly utterance found;-"Come hither, boy!" then fearfully He cast his eyes around.

"That lady was thy mother once,-
Thou wert her only child;-
And oh! I've seen her when she held
Thee in her arms and smiled,----

She smiled upon thy father, boy,
'Twas that which drove me wild!

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He was my brother, but his form
Was fairer far than mine;

I grudged not that; he was the prop
Of our ancestral line,

And manly beauty was of him

A token and a sign.

Boy! I had loved her too,-nay, more, "Twas I who loved her first;

For months-for years-the golden thought Within my soul was nursed;

He came he conquer'd-they were wed;― My air-blown bubble burst!

Then on my mind a shadow fell,

And evil hopes grew rife;

The damning thought stuck in my heart, And cut me like a knife,

That she, whom all my days I loved,

Should be another's wife!

"Alas! it was a fearful thing

To see my brother now,

And mark the placid calm that sat
For ever on his brow,

That seem'd in bitter scorn to say,
I am more loved than thou!

I left my home-I left the land--
I cross'd the raging sea;--
In vain-in vain-where'er I turn'd,
My memory went with me;-
My whole existence, night and day,
In memory seem'd to be.

I came again-I found them here-
Thou'rt like thy father, boy-
He doted on that pale face there,
I've seen them kiss and toy,-
I've seen him lock'd in her fond arms,
Wrapp'd in delirious joy!

He disappear'd-draw nearer, child;-
He died-no one knew how;
The murder'd body ne'er was found,
The tale is hush'd up now;

But there was one who rightly guess'd
The hand that struck the blow.

It drove her mad—yet not his death,-
No-not his death alone;

For she had clung to hope, when all

Knew well that there was none;— No, boy! it was a sight she saw That froze her into stone!

"I am thy uncle, child,-why stare So frightfully aghast?

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The arras waves, but know'st thou not
'Tis nothing but the blast?

I too have had my fears like these,
But such vain fears are past.

'I'll show thee what thy mother saw,-
I feel 'twill ease my breast,
And this wild tempest-laden night
Suits with the purpose best.-
Come hither-thou hast often sought
To open this old chest.

It has a secret spring; the touch
Is known to me alone;

Slowly the lid is raised, and now-
What see you that you groan
So heavily-That thing is but
A bare-ribb'd skeleton."

A sudden crash--the lid fell down--
Three strides he backwards gave,-

'And oh! it is my brother's self

Returning from the grave!

His grasp of lead is on my throat-
Will no one help or save?"

That night they laid him on his bed,

In raving madness toss'd;

He gnash'd his teeth, and with wild oaths
Blasphemed the Holy Ghost;

And, ere the light of morning broke,

A sinner's soul was lost.

H. G. Bell.

The Invocation.

ANSWER me, burning stars of night,
Where is the spirit gone,

That pass'd the reach of human sight,
Even as a breeze hath flown?-
And the stars answer'd me-" We roll
In light and power on high;
But of the never-dying soul

Ask things that cannot die!"

O many-toned and chainless wind,
Thou art a wanderer free!
Tell me, if thou its place can find
Far over mount and sea?-
And the wind murmur'd in reply-
"The blue deep have I cross'd,
And met its bark and billows high,
But not what thou hast lost!"
Ye clouds, that gorgeously repose
Around the setting sun,
Answer! be ye a home for those
Whose earthly race has run ?—
The bright clouds answered-" We depart,
We vanish from the sky:

Ask what is deathless in thy heart,

For that which cannot die!"

Speak, then, thou voice of God within,
Thou of the deep low tone!

Answer me through life's restless din,
Where is the spirit flown?-

And the voice answer'd-"Be thou still,

Enough to know is given;

Clouds, winds, and stars, their task fulfil,

Thine is to trust in Heaven!"

Mrs. Hemans

The Triumph of Malachi, King of Meath. 'MIDST forest deep of flashing spears,

The flag of Erin's flying;

Her cause, the one the tyrant fears,
The freeman dares to die in!