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lead me, I pray, where never shallop's keel

Brake the dull ripples throbbing to their caves; Where the mailed glacier with his armed heel Spurs the resisting waves!

Paint me, I pray, the phantom hosts that hold
Celestial tourneys when the midnight calls;
On airy steeds, with lances bright and bold,
Storming her ancient halls 1

Yet, while I look the magic picture fades;
Melts the bright tracery from the frosted pane;

Trees, rales, and cliffs, in sparkling snows arrayed, Diasolre in sllrery rain.

Without, the day's pale glories sink and swell

Over the black rise of yon wooded height; The moon's thin crescent, like a stranded shell, Left on the shores of night.

Hark I how the north wind, with a hasty hand

Rattling my casement, frames his mystic rhyme. House thee, rude minstrel, chanting through the land Runes of the olden time!

THE POET OF TO-DAY.

BY GRACE GREENWOOD.

Weat siren-joys from thy high trust hath won thee,

Oh Poet of to-day 1—thou still unheard,
Though struggling nations cast their eyes upon thee

And the roused world is waiting for thy word I

Why llngerest thou amid the summer places,
The gardens of romance, the haunt of dreams,

'Hid verdurous shadows, lit by fairy faces,
And fitful playing of soft, golden gleams?

There have thy fiery thoughts and hopes betaken
To still delights, and loneliness, and rest,

Thy life to quiet gliding, lest it waken
The languid lilies sleeping on its breast.

The rudest wind which comes where thou art lying,
Listening the chiming waters as they flow,

Hay scarcely set the mournful pines a-sighing,
Or shake down rose-leaves on thy dreaming brow.

Arouse I look up, to where above thee tower

Regions of being grander, freer, higher,
Where God reveals His presence and His power

E'en as of old, in thunders and in fire.

Then stray no longer In the valleys rernal—
Ascend where darkness and great lights belong,

Sunshine and tempest—scale the heights eternal,
Go forth and tread the mountain-paths of song 1

From those far summits shall thy thought's clear voicing pall like the sweep of torrents on the world;

Thy lays speed forth, exultant and rejoicing,
Their eagle pinions on the winds unfurled.

Ah, when the soul of ancient song was blending
With the rapt bard's in his immortal strains,

Twas like the wine drank on Olympus, sending
Divine intoxication through the reins.

It brought strange, charmed words and magic singing,
And forms of beauty burning on the sight—

Young loves their flight through airs ambrosial winging, And dark-browed heroes arming for the fight—

The trumpet's " golden cry,"—the shield's quick flashing— The dance of banners and the rush of war—

Death-showers of arrows and the spear's sharp clashing— The homeward rolling of the victor's car!

But ah! in all that song's heroic story

Hod sad Humanity one briefest part? Sounds through the clang of words, the storm, the glory,

One sharp, strong cry from out her bleeding heart?

But unto thee the soul of song is given

Oh Poet of to-day! a grander dower
Comes from a higher than the Olympian heaven,

In holier beauty and in larger power.

To thee Humanity her woes revealing,
Would all her griefs and ancient wrongs rehearse;

Would make thy song the voice of her appealing,
And sob her mighty sorrows through thy rerso.

While in her season of great darkness sharing,
Hall thou the coming of each promise-star

Which climbs the midnight of her long despairing,
And watch for morning o'er the hills afar.

Whererer Truth her holy warfare wages,
Or Freedom pines, there let thy voice be heard;

Sound like a prophet-warning down the ages,
The human utterance of God's living word.

But bring not thou the battle's stormy chorus,
The tramp of armies, and the roar of fight,

Not war's hot smoke to taint the sweet morn o'er us,
Nor blaze of pillage, reddening up the night.

Oh I let thy lays prolong that angel-singing,

Girdling with music the Redeemer's star, And breathe God's peace, to earth " glad tidings" bringing

From the near heavens, of old so dim and far.

THE POET-MARTYR.

BY JOHN 8. DU SOLLE.

"Le poete eat homme par les sans,

Homme par la douleur!

L'argile perissable oQ tant d'ame palplte,
Se faconne plus belle, et ie brise plus vite;
Le nectar est divin, mais le vase est mortel;
Cest un Dlea dont le poids dolt ecraser l'autel;
Cest an souffle trop pleiu du solr ou de l'aurore,
Qui fait chanter le vent dans un roseau sonore,
Mais, qui brise de son, le jette au bord de l'eau,
Comme un chaume seche battu sous le fleau!"

Lahabthtb.

Thou dark-eyed, pensive, passionate Child of Song 1
Enthusiast! Dreamer I Worshipper of things

By the world's crowd unnoticed, 'mid the throng
Of beautiful creations Nature flings
The sunlight of existence on!

The wings

Of the rude tempest are not half so strong
As thy proud hopes and wild imaginings:
Stop! ere their bold and sacrilegious flight
Reach a too-dazxiing height:

So venturing sunward, that the flashing eye
Of Reason, grown deliriously bright,

Kindle to Madness and to Idiocy I
And from excessive light,

To hideous blindness fall, and tenfold night I

Stop I whilst the ruby fount of Life Goes bubbling onward, hurtless, through thy vein?;

While yet the glorious, but capricious strife Of Being is uncertain: while the stains

That Sin and Sorrow rust into the soul
Touch but the surface only, not the whole.

Stop! whilst to Memory earth is still so dear—
And hath a thousand ties—and is not all
One sad, unvarying, spirit-wounding sphere—

Whilst Hope still smiles at thy so-frequent call,
And the dim Future comes
Peopled with tiny faces, and the forms
Of angel loved-ones, that, with outstretched arms,

Beckon thy spirit to their sunny homes I

Stop! if thou'dbt live.

Or, hath Life left for thee

No charms, that thou its last, terrific scene
Shouldst with such passion worship?

Can It be

That the world nothing hath thou'dst care to win?
No gem? no flower? no loveliness unseen?
No wonder unexplored? no mystery
Still undeveloped to the eagle eye
Of Genius or of Poesy?
Where are the depths of the dark, billowy sea?

Its peopling millions? its gigantic chain
Of gorgeous, glittering waters, wild as free?

Where the big-orbed Sun? the blue-veiled sky, With its magnificent, diamond-glistening train Of ever-burning stars?

It may not be,

(Thou fond Idolater at every fane

Where beauty lingers), may not be that thou Hast treasured up Earth's precious things, till now Thou deem'st it vain to turn,

Some unfamiliar object to discern;
And so,

Her loveliest features unregarded go I
Away, proud thought I such boastings ne'er were thine—
Since in the meanest, humblest flower that grows,
E'en in thy life-breath, as it comes and goes,
There are a thousand things whose origin,
Whose secret springs, whose impulses divine,
No huxmin art nor wisdom can disclose I

Stop!—I conjure thee—

Bid the Muse away!

Her fatal gift cast from thee or resign,—

And her proud mandate heed not nor obey 1 E'en now thy brow hath Sorrow's pallid sign—

Thine eye, though bright, is like the flickering ray Of " a stray sunbeam o'er some ruined shrine"— Lighting up vestiges, almost divine,

In sad, yet dimly-beautiful decay.

Thy cheek is sunken, and the fickle play Of the faint smile that curls thy parted lip,

Hath something fearful in it, though so gay— A something treacherously calm and deepSuch as on sunny waters seems to sleep

When, hid beneath some passing shadow's gray,

The subtle Storm-Fiend watches for bis prey!

Stop! melancholy youth:
Though bright and sparkling be the tide of song,
And many a sunbeam o'er its waters dance
Meanderingly along:
Though it be Heaven to quaff of; yet. In truth,
A deadlier venom taints its gay expanse,
More deep, more strong,
Than to the subtlest poison doth belong!
A very demon haunts its golden air 1
Infatuating with his serpent glance
The wanderer there;
And, with a sad but most bewitching smile,

Wooing the while
The fond and credulous one to his desire,
With burning thoughts, whose mad, unholy fire,
With its own strength enkindles its own funeraJ pyre!

Stop! ifthou'dst live then-
Stop! or e'er thy flight
Reach a too-dazsling height:
Venturing sunward, till the flashing eye
Of Reason, grown deliriously bright,
Kindle to Madness and to Idiocy—
And, from excessive light
To hideous blindness fall, and tenfold night!

FASHIONS.

Thxrr is ■0 little that is decidedly new In the European world of fashion, that even the 'Monlteur de la Mode* finds opportunity to amuse its readers with delineations of extravagances for the Carnival, holiday costumes of the peasant girls of Ischia, and the little maidens of Cauz. In consequence of this dearth of novelty, we are unable to give this month our usual number of figures of costumes. There are, however, indications of much activity and great changes for the future. It is said, for instance, that waists are to be made quite short, and that skirts are to fit tight upon the hips. The Moniteur, in mentioning this change as one of the on dits of fashionable society, alludes to the hardihood and boldness of the Innovation, and says, that it will not yet say that it is fully determined upon. Meanwhile the high, close corsages continue in vogue. Robes of rich heavy material, such as brocade, damask satin and velvet, are almost universally made with the corsage open in front en coeur, and high behind; the opening being filled with a rich chemisette of lace.

Dress robes are generally much ornamented with trimming, for which purpose much use is made of application of velvet and chenille. Sleeves, which are made easy at the top, should bo open and very large below, with fiots of lace and other trimmings, widening as they fall upon the hand. This aristocratic fulness is much in favour, being rightly considered to give tho hand a genteel and neat appearance.

Beaver bonnets for morning wear are fashionable at pre* sent, of the colour called Ourm&U, trimmed with a pretty nceud above of the same colour. The Inside is lined with white and trimmed with noeuds of white, mixed with velvet epingle of the same colour as the bonnet.

Bonnets of demi-toilettes are all made of oither satin or velvet epingle, with bands of satin fixed upon the crown and cape. The under-trimming is a mixture of velvet and ribands.

For the afternoon, rich bonnets of velvet, black, dark bine, deep garnet, Ac., are fashionable, ornamented with a very small bird on each side, without other trimming. Blond and ribands intermingled form the under-trimming.

Visiting bonnets are of velvet epingle of light colours, such as

Figure 1. ffcdf Dress Home ToiLsttt,—Cap of white tulle, forming somewhat of the Mary Stuart point upon the forehead, and bordered all round with ruches of tulle, four rows in front but only two on the back part. On each side are neeuds, two orange and two violet, which extend to the temples and cover the ears. These noeuds are very swelling, and made of two puffs of orange above, and two of violet below, before and behind a contracted middle; they are arranged In such a manner as gracefully to enclose the face. Two wide brides, one orange and the other violet, are crossed upon the crown, and two long ends fall behind.

Redingote of dark Scotch velvet. Corsage high behind, open in front with revere, and with short skirts extending but little below the waist These skirts, which are merely prolongations of the front of the corsage, are finished

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HALT DBK8S HOME TOILETTE.

square above the hips. Sleeves large at the bottom and gathered into two puffings by three bands. The revere on the front of the corsage and of the j u pe, and also the bands on the sleeves, are trimmed with a galon of violet velvet stamped with dark designs. At the middle of the corsage, and of the jupe, are seven stages or degrees of noeuds Louis XIII. composed of this galon, wound upon itself and fixed by buttons of oxydated silver, and sleevelettes of lace and collared chemisette of the same.

Figuke 2. Young Lady's Full Dress.—Coiffure In short bandeaux; on one side a hunch of Rose Acacia falls over the hair and a little upon the cheek; on the other Is a

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nctttd & coqtux, or eggshell noend, and two long ends of delicate green taffetas riband.

Robe of white taffetas, spotted with little bunches of flowers. Corsage rounded and full, like that of a little girl, tailing away a little, plain in front, but gathered near the shoulders, the gathers extending to the front of the waist. Sleeves short, rather wide and gathered up at the sides by a noeud of green riband. Smooth embroidered chemisette appearing above the corsage,

Fionas 3. Ball Cbtfume,—Coiffure composed of roses and rosebuds, forming a diadem around the front part of the head, with mixed tufts of foliage and buds falling over the cheeks, and reaching almost to the shoulders.

Robe of rose-coloured crepe Out, trimmed with puffings of crepe lisse and flowers. Corsage tailing away a little in the middle, of three pieces; waist long. Berthe closed

Fir,. 3. BALL COSTUME.

with a large bunch of roses, and broidered all ronnd with a puffing, with swellings upright rather than horizontal. The uppermost skirt is bordered with a similar puffing, but twice as wide. On the left side the skirt is slit to nearly half its height, the gap being bordered with traverse puffings decreasing from bottom to top; at the top of the opening is a row of rosebuds, passing thence to the hips and gradually diminishing in size as they ascend. On the right the skJrt is not opened, but festooned by a bunch of roses, which curb its fulness. The under skirt is long and bordered by a puffing twice as wide as that on the upper one, and passing all round. The arrangement of this trimming is very prettily graduated. That on the short sleeve being narrow, that on the corsage twioe as wide, and so doubling until that on the lower skirt is eight times as wide as that on the sleeves.

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