A slender shrub, with drooping branches of yellow bios- 
soms, looking like necklaces of gold.—Switzerland. 
PENSIVE BEAUTY. 
Art thou not near me, with thy earnest eyes, 
That weep forth sympathy !—thy holy brow, 
Whereon such sweet imaginings do rise : 
Art thou not near me, when 1 call thee now, 
Maid of my childhood’s vow t 
Even like an angel, smiling ’mid the storm, 
Wert thou amid the darkness of my woes— 
Thy pure thoughts clustering around thy form, 
Like seraph garments, whiter than the snows 
Which the wild sea upthrows. 
Now I behold thee, with thy sorrowing smile, 
And thy deep soul uplooking from thy face, 
While sweetly crost upon thy breast the while, 
Thy white hands do thy holy heart embrace, 
In its calm dwelling-place ! 
Duganne. 
