antic incident upon which this little tale is
founded, has been made use of by Mr. Rogers, in his poem of "Italy."
It is one of those events which enrich and enliven, for romance, the
early histories of most states and nations that ever arrive at
character and civilization. It occurs in the first periods of Venetian
story, about 932, under the Doge Candiano II. I have divided my sketch
into _five_ parts, having originally designed a dramatic piece with
the same divisions. That I have since thought proper to write the tale
in the narrative and not the dramatic form, is not because of any
insusceptibility of the material to such uses. I still think that the
story, as above given, might easily and successfully be dramatized,
giving it a mixed character--that of the melo-dramatic opera, and only
softening the close to a less tragical denouement.]

ODE TO THE MOON.

BY MRS. E. C. KINNEY.

I.

Myriads have sung thy praise,
Fair Dian, virgin-goddess of the skies!
And myriads will raise
Their songs, as time yet onward flies,
To _thee_, chaste prompter of the lover's sighs,
And of the minstrel's lays!
Yet still exhaustless as a theme
Shall be thy name--
While lives immortal Fame--
As when to people the first poet's dream
Thy inspiration came.

II.

None ever lived, or loved,
Who hath not thine oblivious influence felt--
As if a silver veil hid outward things,
While some bright spirit's wings
Mysteriously moved
The world of fancies that within him dwelt--
Regent of Night! whence is this charm in thee,
That sways the human soul with potent witchery?

III.

When first the infant learns to look on high,
While twilight's drapery his heart appals,
Thy full-orbed presence captivates his eye;
Or when, 'mid shadows grim upon the walls,
Are sent thy pallid rays,
'Tis awe his bosom fills,
And trembling joy that thrills
His tiny frame, and fastens his young gaze:
Thy spell is on that heart,
And childhood may depart,
But it shall gather strength with youthful days;
For oft as thou, capricious moon!
Shalt wax and wane,
He, now perchance a love-sick swain,
Will watch thee at night's stilly noon,
Pouring his passion in an amorous strain:
Or, with the mistres