n now
The throbbing pulse of heart and brow,
Hereafter take a real form
Like spectres changed to beings warm;
And over temples worn and gray
The star-like crown of glory shine,--
Thine be the bard's undying lay,
The murmur of his praise be thine!

One of the poems in the same number which contained this spirited
tribute to New England was the song given below, which was signed with
the initials of the editor, else there might be some hesitation in
assigning it to him, for there is scarcely anything like it to be found
in his writings. It was evidently written for music, and some composer
should undertake it.

SONG

That vow of thine was full and deep
As man has ever spoken--
A vow within the heart to keep,
Unchangeable, unbroken.

'T was by the glory of the Sun,
And by the light of Even,
And by the Stars, that, one by one,
Are lighted up in Heaven!

That Even might forget its gold--
And Sunlight fade forever--
The constant Stars grow dim and cold,--
But thy affection--never!

And Earth might wear a changeful sign,
And fickleness the Sky--
Yet, even then, that love of thine
Might never change nor die.

The golden Sun is shining yet--
And at the fall of Even
There 's beauty in the warm Sunset,
And Stars are bright in Heaven.

No change is on the blessed Sky--
The quiet Earth has none--
Nature has still her constancy,
And _Thou_ art changed alone!

The "Review" for September 13, 1830, has a poem of Whittier's prefaced
by a curious story about Lord Byron:--

_The Spectre._--There is a story going the rounds of our periodicals
that a Miss G., of respectable family, young and very beautiful,
attended Lord Byron for nearly a year in the habit of a page. Love,
desperate and all-engrossing, seems to have been the cause of her
singular conduct. Neglected at last by the man for whom she had
forsaken all that woman holds dear, she resolved upon self-destruction,
and provided herself with poison. Her designs were discovered by Lord
Byron, who changed the poison for a sleeping potion. Miss G., with that
delicate feeling of affection which had ever distinguished her
intercourse with Byron, stole privately away to the funeral vault of
the Byrons, and fastened the entrance, resolving to spare her lover
the dreadful knowledge of her fate. She there swallowed the