Puslapio vaizdai
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fountain. One evening, as he was gazing on this, he fell asleep, and dreamed that he was a swan hovering over the Mediterranean Sea, and looking down, that he saw Undine sitting under the crystal arches. She wept bitterly, and then he saw Kuhleborn go towards her and laugh and scold at her. On this Undine collected her spirits and said, "Thou dost not understand my tears; they are sacred, as all is sacred which proceeds from the true soul. I have brought my soul with me, even under the silver sea, and only stay here till my husband is released to the pure life of Heaven. Then I am to leave thee, and thy race, and dwell for ever with him."

Hildebrand waked with a heavenly smile of peace, and exclaiming, "Pure and holy Undine, am I worthy to live with thee in Heaven?"-he died.

He was buried, and not long after a little fountain welled up near the spot, and clear as crystal flowed gently on, till it had surrounded the knight's grave;-it then pursued its course, and emptied itself into a neighboring lake.

May it not be that this is the mortal part of the affectionate Undine, who thus encircles with her arms the ashes of her beloved husband, while their spirits worship God together in Heaven?

STANZAS.

SWEET flower, so young, so fresh, so fair,
Bright pleasure sparkling in thine eye,
Alas! e'en thee, time will not spare,

And thou must die.

That heart with youthful hope so gay
That scarcely ever breathed a sigh,
Must weep o'er pleasures fled away,

For all must die.

But though the roseate cheek may fade,
The virtuous wish, the purpose high,

The bloom with which the soul's array'd,

Shall never die.

E. L. C.

SONNET.

BY W. R

HARK to the piercing gladness of that note, Ringing in shrill sweet echoes through the

grove!

The tide that gushes from that quivering throat, Tells of the fount of innocence and love,

That springs within thy free and joyous heart, In thy green home.-Gentlest and loveliest!

say,

Know'st thou the pleasure which thy notes impart?

Dwells there a mind within to frame that lay-
To sink and soar with it, or guide its flow
Of melody, and pour it on the soul?

-Ye happy listeners! 't is enough to know
Joy prompts the strain: what reads and feels

the whole

Is yours and only yours; the spirit from above,

Tuned to the harmonies of everlasting love!

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