Why hast thou left the blazing hall,

And the songs and the mirth of the festival?
Why hast thou left them? O! one can tell,
And wherefore thou watchest one knoweth well.

O! 'twas as lovely lady

As e'er clasped jewelled band; O! 'twas as wayward lady

As e'er bare hawk on hand :

For knights unnumbered of high degree,
The bravest and best of the west countrie,
Have knelt at her feet, one smile to pray,
But to each and to all she answered, Nay.

Yet, alas! that lovely lady

Should have guardian stern and cold, Who recks not of her happiness,

Who heedeth but her gold:

Right gladly he saw those knights depart;
And then he strove, with cunning art,
To win for his son that fair lady-
Sweet Lady Blanche! — can that ever be?

O, sad through the wood hied that lady,
Like hind from the hunter's bow;
For her guardian hath sworn that lady

To St. Oswyth's cell shall go.

Ay, well may she flee, but she cometh again,

And the rose to her cheek hath returned again,

And she smiles as of yore; whom hath she seen? None, save the minstrel in Lincoln green,

Now deck thee with jewels, lady—

Though thou need'st not their feeble light;
Wreathe thine hair with fair flowers, sweet lady,
For the gallant feast to-night:

She hath gone well pleased at her guardian's call;
Like the springtide sun, she smileth on all;
But twilight cometh-and she hath flown,
Nor, sweet Lady Blanche, hast thou fled alone.

O fair but sad was thy brow, lady,

As thou stood'st in the dim twilight;

O fairest of all art thou, lady,

Now the noontide sun shines bright!

For around are gathered the bridal throng,
From the minster thee leading with gladsome song;

For the forest minstrel who fled with thee

Is heir to the lands of Earl Rivelsbye.

ON THE TOMB OF BLUCHER,

FROM THE GERMAN,

Ay, soldier, weep that grave beside,
Ay, fix thy heart's intenser gaze:
There sleeps no son of useless pride,

There speaks no lie of purchased praise.

When Prussia, in her evil hour,

Was crushed, for errors not her own; When on her rained the iron shower,

That wrapt the cot, and wrapt the throne;

When all was famine, flame, and gore,
When died the noble and the brave;
When courage fled, and hope was o'er,
And man's best refuge was the grave:

Then he who slumbers at thy feet,

Snapped with one sabre blow the chain, And, like the lightning's fiery sheet, Unfurled the Prussian's Eagle-vane.

The Prussian trump was at his lips,
It sounded like the trump of doom;
Fled at its blast the land's eclipse,

Burst at its blast the nation's tomb.

Then paled Napoleon's guilty star,

Then, France, thy tiger heart was tame,

Then Europe rose to glorious war,

And Blucher was man's guiding flame.

GERMANICUS.

A GAME AT COQUETRY.

BY THE AUTHOR OF THE REFORMER.

"WELL, Fred!"

"Well, Frank!"

These were the first salutations of two intimate friends, yclept Frederick Markham and Francis Lyttleton Winchester.

"Well, and how do?" lisped out the last named gentleman. "How does it fit? How does the dose smell? How does your pulse beat?-Have you got a palpitation of the heart?-Does your head ache?" "Psha! I did not send for my physician!"

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Physician? no! He takes the body, I the mind; which hath the better bargain? I inquired after the symptoms of your corporeal frame, that I might ascertain the state of the incorporeal. You, mundane that you are, carried your thoughts no higher than the acceleration or stupefaction of the sanguinary tides. I judged by the tides of the moon of your brains - by your brains of your heart-by your heart of the lady." "Could you not have asked a straightforward question?"

"Of a third person, but not of the principals in a matrimonial affair. Why, a man warmly in love would have construed, or rather misconstrued, a question into

U

a doubt, a doubt into an insult, an insult into a challenge, a challenge into a bullet, and a bullet- O, ye fates into my heart, and all because of an indiscreet question. No, Fred, no; I am wiser than that. For want of a nail, the shoe was lost-for want of a shoe, the horse was lost for want of a horse, the rider was lost, and all for want—no, Fred, no. I have just introduced a new mode for my hair, which has taken; and, as it is in the first blush of the new fashion, I am not willing that a single curl should be shaken by a mistimed argument, though it should have all the weight of-lead." "As ridiculous as ever!"

"I flatter myself a little more so I am improving. Remember that there is no standing still, and I would not willingly retrograde. Besides, absurdity, or eccentricity, which is the same thing, is the very charm of life, which the world runs after most vehemently. People can choose whether they will care or not for such a wise, sterling, profound, serious, fellow as you; but they have no choice, they are irresistibly impelled to follow my folly, to rush after me through bog, over briar, till the ignis fatuus has led them — he himself knows not whither."

"Well, but wise, serious people, such as you are pleased to designate your poor friend, sometimes follow these will-o'-the wisps quite as foolishly, and sometimes more fatally, than they who with a light heart have also a light pair of heels to escape again."

"Ah!-and a sigh-suspicious, Fred!"