d a mystic scroll,
And it seemed a fearful warning, yet I knew not whence it came,
Writ in wild and wondrous characters of rosy-colored flame;
And a deep voice murmured: 'Destiny, that wrought thy web of life,
Hath inwoven fierce unrest, brilliant dreams, and fiery strife.
And this solemn spell shall bind thee, be thy shrinking what it may,
Strength, and Faith, and earnest Suffering to thy latest earthly day!'
Ever since a dusky Presence seemeth phantom-like to brood,
Dim and shadowy and tearful, o'er my haunted solitude;
And a wind-harp waileth lowly 'mid the swell of joyous song,
Breathing from the lips of beauty o'er the listening festal throng.

VIII.

I am weary, I am weary! Cometh not across my breast
Transient thought of that which shall be, presage of better rest?
And the sounds of early spring-time with an inner meaning fraught,
Seem the last notes of a requiem from some old minster brought;
Solemn mass for gentle spirits, the unsullied and the true,
Gone with all their bright aspirings, like the fragrant morning dew.
Yet the visions of their soulful glance, and the intellectual brow,
The memory of their poet words, is present with me now!
Oh! I would that I were slumbering where moaneth the sea-wave,
Where the setting sun might linger with a smile upon my grave!
Emblems fit of life's dark heaving, and of that blessed shore
Where these weary DREAMS and MEMORIES shall sadden me no more!

A FIRST NIGHT OF RACINE.

FROM DE JOUY'S 'HERMITE' OF THE FOURTH OF JANUARY, EIGHTEEN HUNDRED AND
TWELVE.

Voila de vos arrets, Messieurs les Gens de Gout!

PRIOR LA METROMAINE.

Every-body has a hobby-horse, as the English say, on which he is mounted,
even when sneering at the steeds of his neighbors. The wits themselves are
not exempt from this mental preoeccupation, which brings every taste to
bear upon only one point. Some ruin themselves in books, some in pictures
and statues, others in minerals, shells, or medals. The bibliomaniac, the
picture-dealer, the naturalist, the numismatist, all appear to me equally
absurd. I speak of course of those who have the collecting mania without
the love of science. They play at science as we play at cards, and the
ridiculous part of the matter is, the perfect seriousness with which they
do it.

One of my friends has become infatuated with a taste which is much less
com