Far other once was Rosalie; Her smile was glad; her voice, Like music o'er a summer sea, Nine years though all have given him o'er, Her spirit doth not fail; And still she waits along the shore The never-coming sail. On that high rock, abrupt and bare, Ever she sits, as now; The dews have damped her flowing hair; And every far-off sail she sees, And every passing cloud, Or white-winged sca-bird, on the breeze, The sea-bird answers to her cry, The cloud, the sail float on; When falling dews the clover steep, And ploughmen gone to rest, Down the rude track her feet have worn There scarce the goat may go- Is seen descending slow. But when the gray morn tints the sky, A fever in her cheek, Again she goes, untired, to sit, Nor, till the star of eve is lit, E'er turns her steps away. THE DYING GIRL.t SISTER, death's veil is gathering fast; This poem is generally attributed to Mrs. Wells; she writes with sweetness and simplicity.-ED. +From Mrs. Hale's Magazine. The spirit of the tear-gemmed throne And Mercy, on Love's wings, hath flown I leave thee, sister,-thee, the last, A lone one, drooping 'mid the dead— A bud, o'er whose pale leaf is cast The blight, from Sorrow's pinion shed. If from the blessed realms of light, Thou shalt not, sister, pine on earth. For where the young buds' dewy fold This soul of mine shall meet thee there. Kneel thou beside my lonely grave, When summer breezes o'er it sweep, When yon proud orb, that gilds the wave, Sinks glorious to his occan sleep. Kneel, and the vow thou breathest there, The dead, the crowned, shall greet thy sigh. And now, farewell! Strange music floats, Yes, yes, the One, the God, who sways Creation's depths, hath bid me come To seek the realms that hymn His praise, The franchised soul's eternal home. ! WASHINGTON IRVING. THE FALLS OF THE PASSAIC. In a wild, tranquil vale, fringed with forests of green, No grandeur of prospect astonish'd the sight, Here the wild flow'ret blossom'd, the elm proudly waved, But the spirit that ruled o'er the thick tangled wood, All flush'd from the tumult of battle he came, |