THE ELFIN EXILE. 53 



liberty to the imprisoned flowers, which now revelled in the light 

 and dew of heaven. 



It was on a moonlit evening in early spring, that Mimosa ven- 

 tured to leave her narrow home to learn something of the 

 strange land in which she now found herself. The spot in which 

 she had been set down, was a lovely domain on the banks of the 

 noble Hudson, which sweeps proudly and majestically through 

 a country of unrivalled beauty. But Mimosa had been accus- 

 tomed to sheltered dells, and little cosy retreats, to green glades 

 and tiny thread-like streams. The lofty Highlands, the dense 

 forests, the broad and rushing river, all combined to form a scene 

 of sublime grandeur which overpowered and disheartened her. 

 It needed little wisdom to discover that there could be no fairy 

 dells in these mighty forests. The spirits of this mountain land, 

 if such there were, must be, she thought, of a sterner and har- 

 dier race than the gentle sprites of Albion's green isle. 



In the course of many after wanderings around her solitary 

 home, Mimosa found one sweet spot which, save that it was 

 lone and unpeopled, was even lovelier than the fairy haunts of 

 her own dear land. From a narrow ravine at the top of a 

 lofty cliff, rushed a full deep stream, which breaking over the 

 up-piled rocks, flashed and sparkled into an oval basin, that 

 seemed hollowed by the hand of nature to be the mirror and 

 the bath of beauty. Large trees bordered and shut in this 

 beautiful glen, while flowering shrubs of every variety inter- 

 laced their branches. A narrow strip of greensward edged the 

 clear but shallow lakelet, whose waters found their way out in 



