faithful pair, and a huge thistle marked the clay of their cruel destroyer.

Stranger! travel towards Dustejard, by the way of Tackt-i-Boston; and there wilt thou, still, see the spot where the pilgrim weeps for the peerless Shirene, and the warrior sighs over the dust of the brave Ferhaud, where the nightingale sings in the branches, and wails over the fate of human loves!"

"You are asleep, sir ?" gently added the young Asiatic troubadour, having paused a moment, without answer, after he concluded his tale.

"No," replied the Englishman; "but, perhaps, I am thinking more of the beautiful Shirene who yet lives, and inhabits this palace, than of her who-a shrouded bride-sleeps sweetly, at last, under the roses of her lover's garden !"

"Ah!" exclaimed the youth, starting from his carpet seat; and, touching a few notes on a little lutelike instrument that hung at his neck, he softly chanted these words :

'Stranger ! love the soul of her
Who loves that soul of thine;

Nor think 'twas lightness sent me here,

To tell this tale of mine!

What Shirene was to Greek Ferhaud,
Zelmaine would prove to thee,

-A handmaid,—blest, in thy abode,
A Christian bride to be!'

With the last strain, the page vanished from the chamber. But, ere the moon, that then shone bright in at the young envoy's window, again appeared there in full orb, it lit the nuptial chamber of the English knight and the Persian princess. And, in after days, when many suns and moons had revolved their course, the portraits of Sir Robert Shirley and his beautiful bride, the Lady Zelmaine, were seen, by future travellers, in the very same picture-saloon of the Ali Copi,-side by side with those of the lamented Shirene and her incomparable Ferhaud.

STANZAS,

Composed during a Tempest.

BY BERNARD BARTON.

DAZZLING may seem the noontide sky,
Its arch of azure shewing;

And lovely to the gazer's eye
The west, at sunset glowing.

Splendid the east-at morning bright, Soft moonlight on the ocean;— But glorious is the hushed delight Born in the storm's commotion !

To see the dark and lowering cloud
By vivid lightning riven,-

To hear the answer, stern and proud,
By echoing thunders given ;-

To feel, in such a scene and hour,
-'Mid all that each discloses -

The presence of that viewless power
On whom the world reposes;-

This, to the heart, is more than all
Mere beauty can bring o'er it;
Thought-feeling-fancy own its thrall,
And joy is hushed before it!

FRIENDSHIP'S OFFERING.

Written in an Annual Publication, presented to a Lady, who had suffered much and long Affliction.

REVIEWING time's perennial flight,
We mark some lovely hours,
Like stars amidst a stormy night,
Or winter-blooming flowers.

Such as among the gloomy past
Your happiest days appear,
Such-but improving to the last,
Be all in this new year!

Sheffield.

J. M.

SPAIN.

AN INVOCATION.

BY THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD DILLON.

OH, that the SPIRIT of my votive song
Would pour her sybil oracles along ;-

Go forth where despots sway,

and dastards yield, And rouse a tented Israel to the field! -Oh! for the mystic harp of Kedron's vale, To fling its music on the tameless gale! As erst, in Israel, when-at God's commandSaul was sent forth to blight the chartered land, When Siloa's brook was gathered to a flood, And Sion wept-till every tear was blood!

Oh! for a spell-like her's who called the dead, And brought the prophet from his dreamless bed,To wake the spirit of the martyred brave,

And break the slumber of Riego's grave!

-Oh! for the warrior-youth of Judah's line,
Divinely missioned to a work divine,-
A David to "go up"-with staff and sling,
And pebbles for the forehead of a king,-