VIII.

'Tis past!—

Silence and tears are in the widow's home

Death hath been there.-On through the little grove,
Towards the church, a small procession winds—'

They reach the open grave-around it stand,
And lay, with tears and solemn orisons,

The broken-hearted in his last abode.

IX.

AND there, as stars look from their placid noon,

In the calm stillness of the midnight hour,

Her locks bedewed, beside the dead she sits.

Ah! what of fear recks she!-her thoughts dwell not

On earthly things—a holier flight they soar :

Morn, noon, and evening found her hovering there;

And as she pass'd, matrons, and maidens fair,
Who knew her story sad-and loved her much,
Looked on her young and fading form, and wept,
And said, "Poor thing! she looks not like herself-
Ah! soon beside IANTHUS she will lie!"

X.

TIME passed anon-the village bell was tolledYoung maidens came and decked her for the tomb; And in white robes they bore her to the grave,

And by him laid her down to peaceful dreams.

THE BRIDE OF GUAYAQUIL.

THE BRIDE OF GUAYAQUIL.

I.

WHERE Chimborazo rears his top

Until he seems the heavens to prop,

And at his feet Pacific rolls

His yeasty tide o'er rocky shoals
In fierce festivity;

The lofty palms and cedars stand
In shadowy files along his strand,
And comes the reptile's fearful hiss
From chasm deep and dark abyss,
The owlet from his covert hoots,

And the wild steed like meteor shoots,
Proud of his liberty;

Why, on a little mound of turf,

Washed by the passing streamlet's surf,
Her garments soiled-her hair unbound,
Her brow with weeping willows wound,