13 
Till! LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS, 
With some faint hope his altered lay 
May sing these gloomy thoughts away. 
***** 
He lived — he breathed — he moved — he felt ; 
He raised the maid from where she knelt ; 
His trance was gone — his keen eye shone 
With thoughts that long in darkness dwelt ; 
With thoughts that bum — in rays that melt.” 
Bykon. 
Let us present our readers with another pic- 
ture, somewhat similar to the first, only that 
the grief is here deeper and more irremedi- 
able ; a maiden ruined and betrayed, goes 
mad ; she is a mother without lawful claims 
on him who should protect her, and her babe 
is left to perish on “ a hoary cliff that watch- 
ed the sea,” and so, — • 
“ She lived on alms, and carried in her hand 
Some withered stalks she gathered in the spring ; 
When any asked the cause, she smiled and said 
They were her sisters, and would come and watch 
Her grave when she was dead. She never spoke 
Of her deceased father, mother, home, 
Or child, or heaven, or hell, or (Jod, but still 
