'T was after church on Ascension day –
When organs ceased to sound,
Wiesbaden's people crowded gay
The deer-park's pleasant ground.

There, where Elysian meadows smile,
And noble trees upshoot,

The wild thyme and the camomile
Smell sweetly at their root;

The aspen quivers nervously,
The oak stands stilly bold

And climbing bindweed hangs on high
His bells of beaten gold.

Nor stops the eye till mountains shine

That bound a spacious view,

Beyond the lordly, lovely Rhine,
In visionary blue.

There, monuments of ages dark
Awaken thoughts sublime;

Till, swifter than the steaming bark,
We mount the stream of time.

The ivy there old castles shades

That speak traditions high
Of minstrels tournaments

And mail-clad chivalry.

crusades,

Here came a twelve years' married pairAnd with them wandered free

Seven sons and daughters, blooming fair, A gladsome sight to see.

Their Wilhelm, little innocent,
The youngest of the seven.
Was beautiful as painters paint
The cherubim of Heaven.

By turns, he gave his hand, so dear,

To parent, sister, brother;

And cach, that he was safe and near,.

Confided in the other.

But Wilhelm loved the field-flowers bright,

With love beyond all measure;

And culled them with as keen delight

As misers gather treasure.

Unnoticed, he contrived to glide

Adown a greenwood alley,

By lilies lured, that grew beside

A streamlet in the valley;

And there, where under beech and birch
The rivulet meandered,

He strayed, till neither shout nor search
Could track where he had wandered.

Still louder, with increasing dread,
They called his darling name;

But 't was like speaking to the dead --

An echo only came.

Hours passed till evening's beetle roams,

And blackbird's songs begin;

Then all went back to happy homes.

Save Wilhelm's kith and kin.

The night came on

all others slept

Their cares away till morn;

But, sleepless, all night watched and wept

That family forlorn.

Betimes the town-crier had been sent

With loud bell up and down;

And told the afflicting accident
Throughout Wiesbaden's town:

The father, too, ere morning smiled,
Had all his wealth uncoffered;

And to the wight would bring his child

A thousand crowns had offered.

Dear friends, who would have blushed to take

That guerdon from his hand,

Soon joined in groups - for pity's sake,

The child-exploring band.

The news reached Nassau's Duke: ere earth

Was gladdened by the lark,

He sent a hundred soldiers forth

To ransack all his park.

Their side-arms glittered through the wood,

With bugle-horns to sound;

Would that on errand half so good

The soldier oft were found!

But though they roused up beast and bird

From many a nest and den,

No signal of success was heard

From all the hundred men.

A second morning's light expands,

Unfound the infant fair;

And Wilhelm's household wring their hands,
Abandoned to despair.

But, haply, a poor artisan

Searched ceaselessly, till he

Found safe asleep the little one,

Beneath a beechen tree.

His hand still grasped a bunch of flowers;
And (true, though wondrous) near,
To sentry his reposing hours,

There stood a female deer

Who dipped her horns at all that passed"

The spot where Wilhelm lay;

Till force was had to hold her fast,

And bear the boy away.

Hail, sacred love of childhood-hail!

How sweet it is to trace

Thine instinct in Creation's scale,

Even 'neath the human race!

To this poor wanderer of the wild

Speech, reason, were unknown

And yet she watched a sleeping child
As if it were her own;

And thou, Wiesbaden's artisan,

Restorer of the boy,

*The female deer has no such antlers as the male, and sometimes no horns at all; but I have observed many with short ones suckling their fawns.

Was ever welcomed mortal man
With such a burst of joy?

The father's ecstasy- the mother's
Hysteric bosom's swell;

The sisters' sobs-the shout of brothers,
I have not power to tell.

The working man, with shoulders broad,
Took blithely to his wife

The thousand crowns; a pleasant load,
That made him rich for life.

And Nassau's Duke the favorite took

Into his deer-park's centre,

To share a field with other pets,

Where deer-slayer cannot enter.

There, whilst thou cropp'st thy flowery food,
Each hand shall pat thee kind;

And man shall never spill thy blood -
Wiesbaden's gentle hind!

THE JILTED NYMPH.

A SONG,

(To the Scotch tune of "Woo'd and married and a'."]

I'M jilted, forsaken, outwitted;

Yet think not I'll whimper or brawl

The lass is alone to be pitied

Who ne'er has been courted at all: